


Loyalty, Honor, and a Willing Heart

by Dagny_Fischer



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 116,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagny_Fischer/pseuds/Dagny_Fischer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When three women fall down a cliff while going to a LARP meeting, what they least expect is to find they are not in the same world they where when they started their trek. Their journey in Middle-Earth to go back home gives them another measure to what means to have Loyalty, Honor, and a Willing Heart.<br/>I own nothing but OCs and their stuff.<br/>I'm sorry it takes a little while for the OCs to find the dwarves, but not everyone who falls in Middle-Earth is lucky enough to stumble on a wizard or a hobbit right in the first moment.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aunty, are you ok?” Asked Lily, holding her hand.  
> “What do you think? Of course I’m not. I’ve lost ourselves. I am responsible for you both, and I lost ourselves. How can I be ok?”

Prologue

Most of the dwarves of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield were chatting among themselves, drinking and having some fun at Bilbo’s house, Bag End. Thorin himself was a little apart, hearing his old counselor, Balin, trying to make him give up his quest of taking back Erebor, the home of his fathers, from the dragon Smaug.  
“So, we lost our burglar. Probably, to the best. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tin-smiths, toymakers... none of the stuff of legend.”  
“There are mighty warriors amongst us.” He minded this compliment to the white bearded dwarf. The elderly shook his head.  
“Old warriors.”  
“I would take these ones over an army from Iron Hills. For when I called, they answered. Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask for no more than that.”

ooo000ooo

Chapter 1 - Lost

The three women walked briskly in the woods of the hillside, breathing deeply the fresh morning air. The trail was clear to follow, they almost didn’t need the map after the first few hours of the previous day. They had set camp late in the afternoon the day before, so they could rest fairly for the second day of their little journey.  
“We must be very close to the back end of the LARP (1) ground, already.” Said the taller one, looking like thirty and some years old. “I think we could stop by those boulders, change and make up for the party.”  
“Sure, Aunt. I can hardly wait to thrush into the camp from the wrong side!” The red haired girl giggled. “One day in the wild hasn’t done much for my locks, tough. Lily spent hours curling them to look like a hobbit’s, but now I’m not sure it was worth all the work.”  
“Oh, sorry, dear, but it was the best way for me to have a little more fun during my vacation. And the LARP camp is so close to this natural park I thought we really could hike it there.”  
“No problem, Aunty!” The girl fastened the strings of her velvet corselet and the double scabbard for her fake swords. “I won’t wear my hobbit feet slippers until we reach the camp, they are too soft underneath to walk on these stones.”  
“Good idea, Iris.” Her older sister said while reaching for her curls with a knowing look. “Here, let me fix your hair a bit. I can make it again at night, if you wish. You will be the prettiest hobbit in the Cosplay (2) tomorrow.”  
The youngest giggled again. “And in the Contest, too! Are you sure you won't go to the boffering (3) contest?”  
“Sure I will, but with the archers this time. I spent the whole year training every spare time I had, I’m sure I have a chance to win a prize.”  
“Yes, I believe it too, Lily.” She blinked. “Hey, lend a hand to Ellen with her wig, she looks more like a Wookie than like an Elf!”  
The sisters laughed hard at their aunt as she made a Chewbacca like growl and took off the long black haired wig. Her own hair was brownish, with some lighter shades; its length was close to the shoulders. The eldest of her nieces complained as she easily put the wig in place and got it tight with some hairpins.  
“I liked better when you had your own hair long, you should not have to wear a wig, then.”  
Ellen nodded while putting on her light boots that fitted with her long skirt.  
“I had more time and patience then, dear. The rhythm of my worksheet barely gives me time to sleep, what then to take proper care of a long hair. No, just for playing at LARPs and boffering contests, a wig will have to do.” She tied some strategical strings to get her skirt far from the ground so she could walk without stepping into it even through the trail they still had to go. “Good trick, Lily, the rough boots and the aluminum can seals hauberck make you look sturdier and stockier than you actually are, really dwarfish.”  
Lily laughed.  
“See, Aunt, with you as an elf and Iris as a hobbit, my size only fitted a dwarf’s, don’t you think so?”  
They all laughed at the five feet seven inches “dwarf”, got their back packs and headed for the trail. It got stepper as they reached the next patch of trees, and wet from nights moisture. Iris feet faltered, Ellen grabbed her arm and steadied them both.  
“Iris, take one of your boffers and use it as a prop, like I’m doing with my bastard one.”  
“Mine are half as long as yours, Aunty! I don’t believe it will work.”  
“Better than nothing, dear. I have some duck tape to fix them if their points get torn.”  
They went on, struggling trough the step path once more, not wanting to stop to eat because they should be so close to the LARP camp now. There they would be in “on” mode for LARPing through the next five days, among two thousand other nerds. It would really be fun. Lily was thinking about all this and her boffering group friends who would be there when she heard a rumble behind her. She tried to steady herself but lost her footing when her sister and aunt came sliding down the path, and then the three of them fell to the side of the trail, rolling through bushes and small trees but with no chance to stop sliding down the hill.  
Finally they rolled to a halt, back packs and boffers scattered around them. They sat up, moaning, patting down dirt from their faces and clothes. Ellen spat a little twig.  
“Is everyone alright? Anything broken?”  
“Nothing, besides my pride!” Mumbled Lily.  
“Just a few scratches, I deem.” Iris looked up the step hill side they rolled down. “Wow, not that I believe it is possible! Look at this wall!”  
The other two looked up, in dismay.  
“How in the holly name of goodness will we get up there again?”  
Then Ellen begun to laugh, shaking her head.  
“We won’t! We don’t have to!” The sisters looked at her, not understanding. “We had to go down the entire hillside to get to the Camp. We are already down, just not at the right spot the track would lead us, and, thank goodness, without any broken bones. In a way, it was a shortcut. Let us take a look at the map and then try to find our location, but I believe we just have to round this hill and find the trail again, and then we will be right there.”  
They gathered their scattered things and rummaged for the map. It was folded in one of the outside pouches of Ellen’s backpack. She unfolded it, looked up at the hillside, at the position of the sun, and back to the map.  
“Too much trees. I’d better have a wider view of the land, but for this we’d had to be on higher ground, and there’s no way to get up this wall.”  
“What do we do, then?” Asked Lily, worried.  
“I deem the best is to try to get around this hill. If we are at the place we should be, it would be the right choice.” Answered Ellen, thoughtful.  
So they folded the map, put on the backpacks, got their boffers and went on. The ground was easier to walk on, no real track but smooth anyway, and they kept the hill on their right side.  
Some hours latter it was clear that the hill would not end. There was a distant noise of water to their left, which reminded them of thirst. Their bottles were long dry, and what was meant to be a delightful trek in a relatively safe surrounding was beginning to show itself a mistake.  
“Aunt, I don’t remember this river in the map. What river is this?” Iris asked, thirsty. Her aunt answered, worried.  
“I don’t know. I have to look at the map again, thought it is making us no good until now. I don’t remember a river that should sound so loud in this region. I’ve camped in this park since I was your age, although mainly at another quarter of it; I should know of a river like this.”  
It was getting late and they should have found the LARP camp several hours ago. They all began to worry, or at least to express the worry that already was on their minds for some hours by now. The sun was getting low on the small bit of horizon they saw amidst the trees. They got to the river.  
“Water! Blessed water! If you are not potable, I don’t care, I love you anyway!”  
Ellen and Lily laughed at Iris´ love manifestation, but hurried like her to wash their hands and faces and to drink from their cupped hands. Then they tacitly began to set up camp, without a word. When the fire was high and the dehydrated soup was becoming palatable in the copper pot (all fitted to the LARP camp, of course), the sisters noticed Ellen’s tears as she watched the flames.  
“Aunty, are you ok?” Asked Lily, holding her hand.  
“What do you think? Of course I’m not. I’ve lost ourselves. I am responsible for you both, and I lost ourselves. How can I be ok?”  
The sisters looked at her feeling her pain. She was the only family they had beside their father, and, although a hard beat when it came to her job, one who sought to make her days worthy to be lived, and wanted that her kin lived at their fullest too. Actually, her way of living was her way of working, and that was what granted her a very good position as a project manager at a multinational company. She’d got less free time to do what she liked beside her job (which she loved tenderly), but then it seemed she valued plainly the chances she had to live what she loved. And boffering, LARPing, tracking and camping were things she loved. To be lost in a natural park she knew, with a map in her hands, was like death to her, more so because she deemed herself responsible for the girls.  
“Aunty, relax, we will find our way tomorrow. Our boffering bunch will miss us and alert the forest police, this kind of thing.” Lily tried to comfort her.  
“And there is the river!” The younger one said. “Geography teachers don’t always tell that if you are lost you should go where the river goes? Let’s take this river side, then!”  
Ellen thanked the girls for their approval, and swore she would be ok. But inside herself she felt horribly responsible for the youngsters. After her brother lost the girl’s mother, they were his only thought day and night, and, as she was a long time on herself (or, as she said, “away from business”), she helped him to take care of the girls as they were her own. And now she lost themselves with a map of her brother’s library in her pack. It was not fair.  
Shaking her head, she got the map to study it once more. She unfolded it and looked at it under the light of the fire, as crying out her guilt would do no good at all. Then she tried to remember each reference point from the two trekking days, mainly the first one, for she guessed the difficulty they had at the beginning could be the reason why they got lost.  
Then it stuck her. There should be no river like that in the park, but it was on the map. It was the wrong map, but they were in the place it described. What map was that? She had studied the map the night before they started the journey, folded it and left it on the corner of the table in her brother’s library. The next morning they were finishing packing and she asked Iris to take the map in the library.  
“Iris, where did you take the map?”  
“On the table in the library, Aunt.”  
“Yes, but where in the table?”  
“Hmm, it was atop of some books, at the center of the table. Why?”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Of course I am, Ellen! Why?”  
The woman was white as paper.  
“This is not our map! This must be one of your father’s collection. Our map was on the corner of the table, with no book at all.”  
The sisters looked at her in dismay; Lily stated. “This is why we had trouble finding the track! The map is wrong!”  
“Yes, but no!”  
“Aunty, you are not making sense…”  
“Yes, it is the wrong map, but no, the map is not wrong! The park has no river this size, but this river stands here in this map. And here in the map is the hill we were trying to round most of the day long.” She begun to show in the map the things she was saying. “I really don’t know in what bloody place on Earth we are, but I believe this map can guide us out of this nowhere. Here, this line shows what must be a road of some kind, and this star must be a town. In a town we shall find help to get back to where we belong!”  
“Are you sure?”  
Ellen sighed.  
“Actually, no. But this is the best I can figure out. Let’s take some sleep, but it is better if we take turns of watch. We don’t know where we are nor if there’s any threat around. Three hour each, so all of us get six hours sleep. We shall keep the fire on, too. Don’t take your boots off.”  
“Why?” Complained Iris.  
“If you have to get up and run for your life all of a sudden, you won’t do it barefoot.”


	2. Chapter 2 – Going Through Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, I got elvish hair and Iris got hobbit feet; what will be the change to our dwarf lady?”  
> “No! No, no, no, no, no, skip, I’m out, no changes, please, I’m fine the way I am!” Lily panicked.

They slept as they were, too tired to bother to put the tent on, the supper warming their bellies and souls. There was no visible or audible menace all night long, and the first light of the sun found Iris stirring the fire to make some gruel for them all. Her feet were sore, and she disobeyed the command not to take the boots off and was in her hobbit feet slippers. Lily yawned and stretched, Ellen scratched her head.  
“Aunt, didn’t you take the wig off to sleep?”  
“Oh, I was so tired I forgot it on. Come on, help me with it.”  
Ellen sat on a log and her niece begun to search for the hairpins. The woman sensed her fingers touching her head and sometimes pulling her hair.  
“What the hell…” Lily muttered under her breath.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I can’t find the hairpins. I’m sure I used quite a lot to get the wig really fast in place, and I can find none.”  
“They may have fallen along the trekking day. Just take the wig off and be done with it. Ouch!” She screamed. “Don’t scalpel me, dear!”  
“I don’t understand, I just pulled the wig by its hair!”  
“No, you pulled my hair!”  
“You are kidding me, Aunt. Here, this is what I’ve done.”  
She got in front of Ellen with a lock of black hair in each hand and pulled them up quickly.  
“Ouch!” Ellen jerked in pain. “It hurts!”  
Lily looked at her in amazement. She had done lots of hairstyling and wig work since she begun to go to LARP and boffering contests with her aunt, but she never ever saw a wig so well adjusted that it took so hard to get it off. She bent close and fingered Ellen’s head at the hair line, trying to find the border of the wig. All around her hair line, it was not visible or touchable, and there was no trace of the brownish, shoulder long hair. She was stunned.  
“Aunt, I can’t find it.”  
“Find what? A merciful way to get the wig off?”  
“No. I can’t find the wig. I mean, I can’t find your own hair. Or, none of them. It is like the wig became your own real hair. I don’t understand, I never saw anything like this before. What is happening?”  
Ellen touched her own head over and over again, fingering for the wig as Lily had done before. She scratched the skin, pulled her hair, and it was, by all means, her own hair and head. She shook her head in disbelief.  
“This is the weirdest thing to ever happen in my life. I… I must think about it for a while.”  
She stood up and went to the river to wash her face. The girls ate their gruel in silence, occupied with the thought of the weird thing that happened to their aunt. She came back.  
“It behaves.”  
“What?”  
“The hair behaves. I went to the river to wash my face, bent my head down, and the hair did not fall from my shoulders. It behaves. I will keep it.”  
The girls nodded, as there was nothing to be said. They all finished their gruel and begun to pack. Ellen changed her skirt for pants, but kept her crude leather corselet over her shirt and all other cosplay stuff on. The girls didn’t change, either, but Lily packed her aluminum hauberk. They were putting on their backpacks when they noticed it.  
“Iris, you didn’t put your boots on. You know we will likely tread a long trek today, your slippers won’t do.”  
“But my feet are sore! When I woke up for my watch turn they hurt so much I couldn’t stand it!” The girl complained. “I know I should be on boots, but I would not be able to walk at all with them on!”  
“Ok, don’t cry, dear. Let’s see if there are blisters or anything else that can be mended.”  
They dropped the packs and boffers and sat on the ground. Iris took off her hobbit-feet slippers and all of them looked at her feet. There was no much difference from what was taken off and what was left.  
“Goodness…” Iris got pale looking at her own big hairy feet.  
“No surprise they were sore inside your boots. You must be two or three numbers bigger than your usual size.” Ellen looked up at Lily. “Now, what about you?”  
“What about me? What do you mean?”  
“Well, I got elvish hair and Iris got hobbit feet; what will be the change to our dwarf lady?”  
“No! No, no, no, no, no, skip, I’m out, no changes, please, I’m fine the way I am!” Lily panicked.  
“Sorry, sister, but it seems we have no choice. Ellen and me had no chance to deny our changes, why would you?”  
Lily thought for a moment.  
“Because… Because dwarves are stronger in resisting magic! All these weird changes must be a kind of magic, you are changing into the character you were disguised, so, as I am disguised as a dwarf, I must have the same resistance to magic dwarves have!” Her passionate defense of dwarf resistance to magic was just the point of the iceberg of her panic. Iris bent over and touched gently Lily’s cheek.  
“You must be right, Lily. And if so, magic has no relation with the changes at all. Or, at least, no relation to your side beard.”  
“My what?” She cried, in shock, touching her own face with both hands.  
“Your side beard, dear. It grows from just a little bellow the level of your lips and as long as your chin, the same hazelnut color of your hair. It is very delicate she-dwarf beard, I deem.”  
ooo000ooo  
The day went on as they wandered south, following the river in hope of finding a real road. With no much alarm, after the morning discoveries, each of them was becoming aware of other changes in themselves and in each other. Lily perceived Iris’ straight hair, that got her hours to get curled before they started the journey, was becoming more curled, and with a more natural look. Iris was the first to see the pointed tips of Ellen’s ears, and then touched her own no confirm they got this change too. Every time Ellen looked at her nieces they seemed a little smaller, Iris becoming really short.  
When they rested at the end of the day, kindling a fire to have at least one decent hot meal in the day, Iris suggested trying to measure their height just to get an idea of if the shrinking process was settled. As they had no measuring tape with them, they had the idea of using their boffers to measure them up, as they knew the size of each of them.  
“I used to measure almost the same as my two short sword boffers together, that is, about five feet, three inches.” Stated Iris.  
“And I was four inches taller, or something like two short ones plus two boffer arrow points, placed sideways. And you, Aunt?”  
“Six feet. This would mean my bastard sword plus three arrow points. Let’s try it out.”  
First they backed each one to a tree and marked their heights on the bark with Lily’s switchblade. Then Iris took her short swords out their scabbards and gave a cry.  
“What is wrong?”  
“The boffers!”  
“What is wrong with the boffers?”  
“They are not. They boff no more. They are real swords!”  
The three took a closer look at them. They were twins, shorter than before as if to follow Iris’ changes, but definitely were no boffers at all. Their blades were thin and sharp, decorated with flower strands; their hilts finely shaped, and they were light in weight, like if they were not made of metal at all.  
“They weigh the same as before, I’m sure” Mentioned Iris, swinging one of them in the air. “But they are faster.”  
“Less resistance to the air, I suppose.”  
“Resistance to the air?” Lily shouted. “Aunty, are you a genius?”  
“Am I?”  
Lily was already getting her quiver from her belongings, her eyes shining with anticipation. And there they were, her arrows, deadly sharp metal points instead of two-inches foam cylinders atop of them. Her eyes shone wildly as she got her bow and tried a shot, aiming at a tree a hundred yards away. It landed true. Just then she saw her bow was no more the same, either, being no more a PVC thing with a cord, but a real bow.  
“Yay! I got it! I got it! I never ever got a true shot at this distance! This is so… woo-hoo!!!”  
Lily was exulting. Since the side beard discovery, she was down hearted and grumbling, and her “downsizing” didn’t help either. The change in the equipment was more unnerving to Ellen than the change in their bodies, because they were, after all, living, organic beings, made of flesh and bones that could, hypothetically, be bent, that grew and changed along time. But their things were just this, things, made of certain materials, and now they were made of other materials, or at least so it seemed.  
“True!” Lily shouted once more, doubling the previous distance. Her skill followed the equipment change, being able to use her weapon to its fullest.  
Pondering the effects of the overall changes, and, moreover, why it was happening to them, Ellen drew her bastard sword off the backpack scabbard. The two-handed hilt, originally stringed with waxed cord, was draped in leather. The pommel was wide and smooth, fitted for her to use the sword as if it was one-handed, propping in her forearm for firmness, as she used to with her boffer, so she could use her short sword in her left hand, mainly for blocking. The cross-guard was finely worked with engraved runes on one side and another kind of writing on the other, more flowing and cursive. Ellen wondered if they said the same, and had a feeling that she should understand what was written, but forgot how.  
Then she took out the blade, oblivious to Lily’s shoutings of joy, and hold her breath in disbelief. It was beautiful. The three inches wide blade shone brightly in the setting sun along its three feet, four inches length. But it was not plain steel. There was a kind of fine grain, very lightly colored of a bluish hue on one side and a reddish one on the other, forming the same drawing on both sides.  
“Aunt, what is this on your sword?” Iris came by, curious. Ellen blinked.  
“It is a dragon.”


	3. Chapter 3 – Memories – or the Lack of them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, Silver Ball, it was not Istar smell! The only Istar smell you have to smell here is mine, you see, if it was another Istar smell I would be sensing an Istar aura by now, don’t you think?”

Lily reunited her arrows in the quiver and they sat down to conference before starting their end-of-the-day duties. They let go the idea of measuring themselves, as it became obvious that if they didn’t already complete their transformation into the peoples they had dressed up to be, at another age and another place, it would be done soon. So, as they had no control over it, it was useless to worry about it. Ellen begun as she would have at a planning meeting with her project crew. It was easier for her this way.  
“Ladies, I wish you are comfortable at your seats and that we all have a nice evening. Our goal at this meeting is to check what information we gathered on our current situation, additional data, alternative hypothesis, and targets. Any doubts?”  
Iris put her hand up.  
“Yes?”  
“Will I have double wage for wielding two swords at once?”  
“If you make a double kill, yes. Next one.”  
They all burst into laughter. None of them ever thought of actually kill someone, moreover two at once. They relaxed at what seemed absurd at first look. Lily got the track, as she knew her aunt was expecting someone would.  
“Well, somehow we got to a place we weren’t meant to, and first our bodies and then our stuff began to take shape of what we were cosplaying.”  
“Right. And we were cosplaying Lord of the Rings races.”  
“When did we first take notice of anything strange?”  
“At the end of the second day of tracking, by the river that shouldn’t be on the map.”  
“Yes, but we found out that the map was not the one we should have been following. So, next question, which map is this?”  
“It was on the library table.”  
“Iris, you said before that it was atop of some books. Can you remember which books they were?”  
“I didn’t really look at them, but now that you mention it, they might well be some Tolkien stuff. Daddy loves it, as you do, and takes them to re-read once upon a while.”  
“And the map was atop of these books. Fine. Albeit my Cartesian mind refuses it, I cannot think of any explanation but that the bloody map guided us inside one of these books. What do you think?”  
“Aunt, can we be dead? I mean, we had that fall over the cliff, and then we are in a fantasy world; I have read lots of fanfics where someone dies in real life and wakes up in another world. Couldn’t it have happened to us?”  
Ellen sighed.  
“Sorry, Lily dear, but this is no fanfic, and we are pretty much alive.” She dropped her eyes to the map. “Now, how do we get back home?”  
“Could we go back and try to climb that cliff?”  
“If we find the way back to it? It might be a choice, but we have no mountaineering stuff or skill to try it. Not a decent piece of rope, mind you, besides the clothes drying cord we use to mount our tent. I wouldn’t dare your necks at that cliff. Would you?”  
The girls shook their heads in agreement. No way back, time to look ahead.  
“Aunt, for what you have read of Tolkien stuff, can you figure out where this map belongs? There is no name on it, just some rivers, seemingly a road, a star that may mean a town, some hilly side here rights and then what seems to be a forest. What do you think?”  
Ellen thought for a while, looking at the map. She sighed.  
“Now that you mention it, there is one more strange thing happening to me.” She looked up at them, in dismay. “I don’t remember the stories.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Tolkien’s stories, you know, The Lord of The Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion… I cannot remember them! I know I did read them at least half a dozen times, watched the movies, but the stories seem to be erased from my mind! Not fully, but most of them. I remember mostly Silmarillion stuff, but from the rest I only remember some names, some main treads, but this is all. The rest is blurred in a fog…” She panicked. “Bloody memory of mine, I can’t remember! We must go away from here, we must go back home, my memory is not working!”  
“Ellen, calm down!” Lily held her hands in hers. “It will be alright, ok? It may be happening for your own safety, who knows? And if you remember things that can change the flow of the history, what then? Until now none of the changes seems to be done to do us any harm; with the memory of Tolkien’s books must be the same, don’t you think so?”  
“Yes, Aunty, take it easy. Now I perceive I can’t remember much of the movies, too.” Iris helped to reassure her. “Not that I eve paid much attention to them besides that blond elf, what was his name?”  
The three of them looked at each other, trying to remember.  
“Orlando?” Guessed Lily.  
“No, Orlando was the actor, not the character.”  
“So, anyway, we are walking in the Middle-Earth wild for more than a day, at least, and found no one, so, it may be likely that we don’t meet any people at all and if we ever find someone it doesn’t mean this someone is part of any story that we know about.” Ellen was herself again, looking for solutions instead of mourning on the problems. “We met all goals of our meeting, and our target remains the same, that it, to reach the star-marked point in the map, that we believe is a town. Now let us sleep. First watch time is mine, if none complains.”

ooo000ooo

Short after breakfast they found the road, or what looked vaguely like a broader and straighter track. They turned left, crossed a bridge and got at a good pace on the more regular ground. Iris preferred to walk on the road side, where her bare feet could be refreshed by the green weeds instead of treading the stony path.  
Lily took in a deep breath and let it out in satisfaction.  
“Smell this fresh air! Could it be a more perfect day?”  
The same moment she said the last word a thunder cracked in the air and it begun to rain. No, to pour! They run for shelter under the trees, but it was not enough. They sought for their hooded mantles in their packs, thanking goodness that they were prepared for a whole week outdoors, and that whatever was changing them and their things managed to turn their fake leather cloaks into real supple leather ones. Even so, it was a miserable day, but as their supplies were calculated for a few days more, it was better to haste.  
Remembering Middle-Earth had more than nice hobbits and handsome elves, they decided not to light a fire that night, for if it could keep animals away in could also attract other creatures they knew that existed in that world, lack of memory or not. They camped a little further from the road and munched their cream crackers with tuna. At least the rain was subsiding and they hoped it would make a better weather next morning.

ooo000ooo

When she was at her watch, the last one, Lily managed to make a cold oatmeal for them all before hitting the road again and decided to change her clothes a little. She had a feeling things could go dangerous at any moment. When she got her aluminum hauberk from her pack it felt strange, more subtle, and more shining too. The shape of the aluminum can seals was no more, instead it was like real chain mail. Lily wondered at it, and put it under her outer garment, as to hide it from view. A shining moving point in the wild would be too easy to hunt.  
Ellen was preparing herself to put on her back pack when she heard sounds amidst the trees. It was like crackling twigs and small branches, coming from the east. The three of them drew their weapons and stood in defense, ready to fight for their lives. The sound came fast and closer, and then suddenly halted.  
They heard a funny male voice complaining at someone.  
“No, Silver Ball, it was not Istar smell! The only Istar smell you have to smell here is mine, you see, if it was another Istar smell I would be sensing an Istar aura by now, don’t you think?”  
The voice was coming closer, with the crackle in the bushes accompanying it, and seemed to come directly at them. Ellen whispered. “Lily, don’t shoot!”  
The young dwarf nodded in agreement, but didn’t lower her bow.  
The first creature they ever saw in Middle-Earth was… a rabbit! It was an enormous silver gray rabbit, almost the size of a beagle dog, dressed in leather reins, and was looking at them with what could only be rated as intelligent eyes. A small distance from him came more rabbits, all reined too, as big as the first one (a leader?), and then it came through the bushes, the thing they dragged. It was a kind of sleigh, made of bent wood, and on it came the weirdest figure they’d seen in all their lives.  
“Didn’t I say, Silver Ball? No Istar here at all!” He demanded on the first bunny. It snoozed and cleansed his nose with its paw, then looked back at the man as if apologizing. The man made a signal to the rabbits and stepped down from the wooden thing.  
“Ellen, who is this one?” Iris whispered. “Do you remember at all?”  
“No.” The woman whispered back. “But I know what to say to him, and that he means no harm on us. Do your best, you two.” Then she lowered her arms and took a low bow.  
“Ellen, daughter of Nyda, at your service.”  
The sisters looked at each other and bowered too.  
“Lily – and Iris – daughters of Wolfram, at your service.”  
He looked at them startled, as if taking notice of them for the first time. He took off his hat, beneath which a small bird nest could be seen, what explained a whitish mess on his hair.  
“Radagast, the Brown, at yours, young ladies!” He blinked at them, putting his hat on again, smiling. “And indeed you are in more need of my service than me of yours, isn’t it?”  
His twinkling eyes turned from one to the other, and they nodded in agreement. - You can tell me, even if I cannot promise my help will be useful.  
He sat down and waited.  
They told enough for him to know what kind of help they needed. He told them he was in search of a friend of his that should be in this region, it was a very important issue, so he could not take in his hands more than to explain what he imagined that could help them.  
“There is a legend, an old one, and known by few, that in the depths of Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, there is a Gate that leads to a strange world, inhabited only by humans. It must be a very hidden Gate at that place too, else there would be lots of humans springing out of it, I deem. It might be the way to your own world, as you tell me your are all human, albeit your actual bodily condition here.”  
“And where is this Erebor? Can you show us it here in this map?”  
Ellen handled the map to him. He studied it for a little while and answered.  
“No, it is not in it. But it can help you anyway.” He put his finger on a spot on the straight line. “We are here. And you can find help here.” The man traced the line to the little star. “Look for advice from Lord Elrond, the Half-Elven, in Imladris. He may have more information on this issue than me. But see” And he looked at them. “that the Lonely Mountain you are looking for is more or less here” And he pointed outside the right border of the map. “and a lot of dangers may lie between you and your destination.”  
Ellen folded the map.  
“Thank you, Mister Brown, from the bottom of my heart. I hope you find your friend soon, and if I ever find this mister Grey, I’ll tell him you are looking for him.”  
They parted lighthearted, Radagast to the west, and the three women to the east, in hope to find that Imladris town and master Elrond by the end of the day.


	4. Chapter 4 – In a hole in the ground there was a lot of dwarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No proper time for formal introductions, sir, but you may call us Loyalty, Honor, and Willing Heart.” The three females bowed as if previously agreed. “At your service!”

They walked about two hours when they heard a blood freezing sound. It was like a howl, but for it’s low tone it must belong to a very big wolf.  
“Is it close?”  
“Is it meant at us?”  
“Let’s get out of the road and find out later!”  
So they did, running the best they could, taking advantage of some boulders to hide from the view of the road while keeping the general direction to the east. The howls were getting closer, and they could hear some harsh cries too.  
“We must get away from this pack. They are hunting something, and we don’t want them to think of us as prey, too.”  
“What are they?”  
An image of a big black and white dolphin like creature came to her mind. “Orcs! Not the San Diego Sea World ones, though!”  
They kept trying to hear east while avoiding the howls and the shouts. While running from one boulder to another, they suddenly saw Radagast’s rabbits running at an astounding speed, that big wolves with some freaky punks mounted on them. The weird Istar (whatever that meant, but they heard him addressing himself by this name) ducked under a low stone where a “big bad wolf” and his rider hit their heads. They saw some figures running from a boulder to another too, and wondered if they were the orcs actual prey.  
“Here, I found a hole!” Called Iris from behind a boulder. “It can at least protect our backs, let’s hide in!”  
The other two run to her, making their best not to be noticeable by the orc pack. They slid down the steep path behind the boulder and found themselves in what looked to be the beginning of a tunnel, dimly lit from some cracks at the top of it. The sound of chase went on outside, getting closer.  
“We don’t know where this path leads, and I don’t want to be got into a trap if it is blocked somewhere from here. We should wait until it is safe outside and find our way east again. Meanwhile,” said Ellen, already prompting herself as she was saying it. “let's get ready for battle if it turns down here. One last stand to protect ourselves, and remember to take down as many as you are able. No mercy on them, for they would have none for us.”  
She got a better grip on her bastard sword in her right hand and the short one in the left, as she used to at boffering mock fights. Although the weapons changed to what belonged to that world, just like themselves, they still had the same weight and feeling from when it was just polyurethane foam made, and she hopped she would be as able with these real swords as she was at home with her boffers. Lily had already proven her archery skills with the real arrows, and it seemed Iris would have little trouble with her twin short swords. But none of them actually ever killed someone, and their mock swordplay training included safety rules so they were used to avoid hitting head, throat and groins. They would have to overwrite years of that training in a matter of minutes, it seemed.  
There was a change in the sounds outside, from chasing to actual fight. They heard screams and awful gnarls and howls, and shouts. A voice was really close to them as it shouted “This way, you fools!” and then there was someone else inside the hole. Lily had her bow ready to fire but Ellen put her hand with the short sword up, signaling her to wait. The old man looked down at her and nodded. “Wise enough.”  
Soon there were dwarves and more dwarves coming down the hole, and a hobbit too, all of them armed somehow – axes, maces, blades of many sizes and shapes. The last three ones rolled down the steep path, a blond one and two dark haired. The oldest of them had some gray streaks in his hair and a beautiful sword in his hand. Lily took note that it was not of dwarven make, although she didn’t know how she knew it. This one looked at them seeming more angry than surprised.  
“What in Durin’s name is this bunch?”  
“A bunch of beauties, I deem!” The dwarven archer muttered under his breath, and the blond one chuckled in response. The elven woman put her weapons down beside her on the dirt floor in sign of peace and looked at him.  
“No proper time for formal introductions, sir, but you may call us Loyalty, Honor, and Willing Heart.” The three females bowed as if previously agreed. “At your service!”  
At this moment the shouts outside grew louder, and the sound of hooves could be heard close to the opening of the hole. Suddenly a horrible corpse fell down at their feet. The one who seemed to be the leader took off an arrow that stuck in its chest and threw it away with a grimace of disgust.  
“Elves!”  
A half bald dwarf with bluish tattoos on his head and arms got past the three strangers as if they weren’t there at all and took a look at the stone path behind them.  
“Shall we tread this way?”  
“It seems a good idea.” The troop went the small tunnel down following the answer of the old man clad in gray. Gray! The color boomed in Ellen’s head as she ran after the dwarves with the tall man behind her. She turned back and whispered to him.  
“Mister Gray?”  
“Yes?”  
“Greetings from Mister Brown. He is looking for you.”  
“Thank you, lady, he already found us this morning. He told me about you three. We have a long walk yet to reach the place we are heading for. We can talk better then. For now, be in peace.”

ooo000ooo

Although feeling more secure for being no more in the open field, and walking with a troop of well armed guys, the girls were getting more and more uneasy as the day wore on. The dwarves made a good pace even with their short legs and seemingly heavy packs, and it was hard on them, mostly on Iris.  
Two or three hours later the leader of the dwarves finally called for a halt, in a place where the walls were somewhat apart. Ellen dropped to the ground with her nieces beside her, all of them grabbing for their water bags that in another world were made of plastic, but now were leather made. Their heavy breathing had not even calmed down when the bold dwarf faced them with a look of mistrust in his stern eyes.  
“It might not be the best place for proper presentations, but some questions must be answered nonetheless.”  
Ellen rose to her feet and took a deep breath. She was used to stern looking directors, arrogant peers, dictatorial company presidents and to be interrogated by boards of shareholders, but they all used to wear suits and ties and to reach higher than her breasts. But then, none of them wore a sword and an axe like his, so it seemed wise not to mock with him. Much.  
“And what questions you might have for us to answer, sir? We are willing to make any doubt clear, as we have nothing to hide. We’d like to know to whom we are answering, though, so we may address you and your company with the proper respect.”  
The gray clad old man stepped in.  
“It may be my task to make some introductions here, for I know something of both parts. Thorin Oakenshield, these are Ellen, daughter of Nyda, and her nieces Lily and Iris, daughters of Wolfram, son of Nyda. Respectable ladies, this is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrór, son of Thráin, his nephews Fíli and Kíli” He addressed to two young ones last to fall into the hole. “and masters Balin and Dwalin” That were a senior one and the half bald tattooed one. “Óin and Glóin” Another senior and a red haired and bearded one. “Ori, Nori and Dori” Two seemingly young ones and a white haired one. “Bifur, Bofur and Bombur” That was the most weird triad, one with the head of and axe in his head, one with a Dali’s moustache and one with the biggest belly any of the women had ever seen before. “and Bilbo Baggins, from the Shire.”  
All of them, save Thorin, made some kind of greeting gesture, even if only a nod or a grunt. The girls eyed each one of them as they could in the fast presentation mister Gray made.  
“Are you telling me these three are same family?” The bold dwarf asked Mister Gray without looking at him. “No deference to blood purity, it seems.”  
The little hobbit girl turned up to him with no constraint. She had seen enough of racial prejudice on her previous world to admit it to happen to her in this one.  
“Sorry, mister Oakenshield, but in our family we value more the purity of principles than any other kind of purity.”  
He looked down to the only hobbit girl in the party and wondered if this kind of behavior was usual to hobbits or if he just had an enormous bad luck.  
“Why are you here? Why were you hiding in the tunnel entrance? Why are you coming along? Where are you going to, and why?”  
“If a partial report is enough, sir, I’d say that only goodness knows why we are here, that we were hiding for the same reason as you, that we are coming along because there is no other path, and that we are trying to go home, because we are lost in a way you have no idea.” Answered Ellen, counting on her fingers. “A full report may be delivered at the proper time and place.”  
“For the moment, and maybe more than it, they are going the same way we are, Thorin.” Mister Gray stepped in. “And they seek advice from the same person.”  
“I don’t want to speak to that elf, Gandalf! Our mission must be as secret as it might! None out of us must know about the map!”  
“Are you having trouble with a map, too?” The dwarf girl asked and Mister Gandalf Gray smirked.  
“It seems you gave yourself about the map, to these ladies at least, Thorin.” The dwarf closed his eyes, angry to himself. “Take things lighter on yourself, a burden is easier to be carried when it is shared.”  
Lily went to Ellen’s backpack, which was a little apart from the dwarves troop, got the map and unfolded it for them to see. Balin came closer, looked at it, and then shook his head.  
“Just a geographic map.”  
“Maybe, but this geographic map has led us into so much trouble you cannot imagine, sir! We must go to someplace out of this map to get home, it seems.” The young dwarf lady told him. “Mister Radagast mentioned a mountain, more or less here.” She pointed right out of the map and the old dwarf gave her a stern look. “We must go there to get home.”  
“What do you know about this mountain, lass? Why do you have to get there?” Balin asked, suspicious, and Thorin eyed her sharply. She got on unaware of the tension around her.  
“Mister Radagast said there is a legend about a Gate in this mountain that may lead to our home.”  
“Just to make it clear, misters, our home is really very far from here.” Ellen added.  
“How far?” Asked Thorin exchanging glances with Balin. Gandalf intervened.  
“If me and Radagast understood it rightly, and there is little hope of us to be wrong, far enough for none of us living under this sun to have gotten there. “  
“What do you mean? Speak clearly, wizard!” Thorin demanded.  
“Their home is under another sun. They have not come from the same Eru’s song that made all of you, and all that you know in this world.”  
“Are you saying they are otherworldly?”  
“Yes.”  
“And that they are looking for the mythical Gate of Erebor?”  
“Yes.”  
“This is gibberish!” Thorin looked angry again. “There is no sense in all this talk, the Gate is a legend, there is no such thing as other worlds!”  
Balin put a hand on his shoulder and tried to calm him down.  
“Thorin, there are more things under the sun that we can imagine! You say the Gate is legend, but then, dragons are legend to most people; the Arkenstone is legend; would you say Valinor is legend? If not, if Valinor exists, as we know it exists, and it is another world, then why cannot exist more worlds beside ours?” The old dwarf reasoned. “We started this journey of behalf of prophecies, following dreams! And now we find three warrior ladies in our path, who must go find a legend in our own home! You may call it chance, but I call it serendipity. They can be a valuable adding to our company.”  
Thorin puffed hard.  
“Legends won’t help us to get back Erebor. I will not drag a bunch of unknown women who tell a weird story claiming to be otherworldly and trying to get into our home, most possibly interested in our gold. And I won’t call anyone warrior until I see someone in action, for anyone can carry a stolen sword having no skill at all.”  
“We are no thieves!” Cried Lily, disgusted.  
“Sires, please, we don’t want to make any trouble to anyone, we just want to go home!” Iris pleaded. “We know almost nothing from this place, we don’t know the way!”  
“I understand your doubts, mister Oakenshield, and if my blood were hotter I would have the pleasure of showing you how skilled we can be and, being you king or not, to teach you some good manners under the gentle strokes of my swords.” Ellen thought it was far worse than the board of shareholders, as Thorin shouts attracted the rest of the dwarves and the hobbit to their debate. “But I know you have lost too much in your life and will lose more before the end, so my place is not to fight you, but to be beside you, and you will judge for yourself if we are worthy of your company. If I understood it right, we are going to the same place, you, to fulfill your quest, and us, to go back home. We will not get back home if you don’t fulfill your quest, so, we need your success to reach ours; on the other hand, you believe you don’t need us. You’re probably right, but nonetheless I’ll be bold enough to say that one more bow and four blades more wouldn’t make your company weaker.” She reached for her long sword beside her backpack, unsheathed it and went down on one knee, presenting it to Thorin. “I, Ellen, daughter of Nyda, offer my services to Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, and his Company, from now on until the day I’m able to reach my home, or the day I die, what comes first. I offer my services out of my own free will and for no piece of gold or any other payment but the means of going to Erebor.”  
Thorin was in shock. It was unexpected. He called that elf a thief and a liar, and there she was, knelt at his feet, facing him with resolute gray blue eyes, offering him her services freely, with an amazing sword in her hands. He took the hilt in his hands and examined the weapon hurriedly, wishing he had more time for this, but that could come later. His eyes widened when he read the runes on the cross-guard and looked down at her, making up his mind.  
“Arise, Ellen, daughter of Nyda, member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, and from now on kneel to no one else.”


	5. Chapter 5 – Under the gentle strokes of my swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How is it that you have an elf under your command, master Thorin?” Asked Elrond, genuinely curious.  
> The dwarf shook his head, rolling his eyes.   
> “Only Mahal knows!”

After the incident that let most of them chattering like a flock of teenagers, they ate something and went on down the path. Lighter for the brief rest, they all walked more easily even keeping a good pace. The women kept close together, the younger ones a little confused with the earlier events. It was not expected, and they wondered what had got into their aunt’s mind to offer her services to that unnerving dwarf, although there seemed to be some logic behind it. She told them they would talk about it later, just amongst themselves, and they agreed.  
The hobbit of the Company managed to get close to them and begun to chat with Iris. They both seemed happy to have one of their same height to talk to, without stretching their necks up all the time. Soon they were laughing together like old friends, Lily with them, letting all the tension of the past few days go away with the chat. Ellen was silent, her eyes to the ground, as if the earlier battle of words with the dwarf king had cost her more than could be guessed.  
Some hours latter they reached the end of the cleft, and the sight was astounding. Water, water in abundance, waterfalls in profusion, and delicate buildings made of clear stone, with magnificent gardens. The women perceived Thorin arguing with Gandalf, but it was no surprise, as he seemingly loved to argue with anyone about anything. They crossed a narrow bridge and reached a small courtyard, to where a good looking elf came down a broad set of stairs.  
Gandalf did the talking, but suddenly there was the sound of hooves coming across the bridge and the dwarves put themselves in warfare mode, to which Ellen just shook her head in a “forgive them, they do not know what they do” look at the sky. The riding elves surrounded them and there would be some confusion but for Gandalf’s intervention, who spoke to their leader and set things right. There was one more tense moment when the mature elf said something in his own language, which to Ellen sounded as something that she should understand, like an old forgotten lullaby. One of the dwarves menaced the elven leader, questioning if he was offending them, but Gandalf set things right explaining he had offered them food.  
The mentioning of food seemed to have a magical effect on the dwarves’ moods, and soon they were cheering lord Elrond and all his family. Their happiness endured little, as they weren’t fond of greens at all, and it looked like that was a vegan house, or something close to this, as at least there was some cheese on the table. Lily, who had always been fond of meat, found in her backpack the last three tuna cans and opened them with her Swiss Army switchblade. They still had food for two days more, maybe some extras, and being no more in the wild she thought it would be a welcomed change to eat them with vegetables instead of cream crackers. She perceived the dwarves looking at her with curiosity and offered the tuna, to what most of them tried at least a bit. It was not so much for the whole party, but everyone got his taste. All but one, and she noticed it. She served half of the last can in a dish and went to a quiet and faraway looking Thorin.  
“May I serve you, my king?” She tried to be respectful. He looked up at her.  
“Why do you call me your king?”  
She thought if she wanted some lemon on the tuna, his sourness could be enough, but answered anyway.  
“You are king to my Aunt Ellen now; so, you must be king to me, too, I suppose.”  
“You suppose.” He mumbled under his breath. “Hear me, kid, no dwarven woman under my kingship walks openly in the wild, most of all in times of war. It is not proper.”  
Lily lowered her eyes, ashamed for the first time in years. She was a second year architecture student, worked part time with indoors design, not even her father told her what was proper or not. Also, it had been several years since she was called “kid” by anyone, and it touched her. His seemingly chauvinism sounded to her as a very strong care. In a way, her dwarven state made her understand things from a different point of view. She left the tuna plate in front of him on the table and bowed low.  
“I am sorry, sir. All I want is to be safe back home. I would not be wandering in the wild if it could be otherwise.”  
Thorin pondered what meant this reaction of hers and what meant all the strange things that happened that day, while she backed off to her sister’s side. The tuna was savory, even if strange to his taste. He should take a look at her pocket knife sometime, when he got a chance. Then he heard the sound of steps and the voices of Gandalf and Elrond. He didn’t like elves at all, but this one was the master of this house, that Gandalf insisted that would help him in his quest. No other way than to pretend some manners, as his mother taught him.  
“Thorin, I have talked for a while with master Elrond and he agreed to take a look at our new swords, if you will.”  
“No more talks besides it, I expect.” Answered the grumpy dwarf, meaning with his eyes that his quest was no subject to private talks without his presence.  
“No, my friend, none will talk about your own issues without your presence and permission.”  
They headed for a table a little apart from the rest.  
“Good.” He unsheathed the sword he got from the troll hoard and lent it to Elrond.  
“This is Orcrist,” Said Elrond after a brief examination. “the Orc-Cleaver. It was forged in Gondolin. You have a mighty weapon in your hands.” He handled it back. Gandalf lent him his one. “And this is Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer. It belonged to Turgon, son of Fingolfin, the Noldo, and match to Orcrist.” He looked at them. “Among the two of you, I would not bet a parsley on any orc’s life.”  
Thorin weighed the sword in his hands, thinking.  
“I’d like to ask you to examine one more sword, or a pair of them, if you please, master Elrond.”  
“One more of the troll’s hoard?”  
“Not at all.”  
He summoned Ellen and spoke to her quietly. She went to her packs and came back while they waited.  
“How is it that you have an elf under your command, master Thorin?” Asked Elrond, genuinely curious.  
The dwarf shook his head, rolling his eyes.  
“Only Mahal knows!”  
She came back with two scabbards in her hands, a short and a longer one. She’d seen before that the short sword was a miniature of the bastard one, even if it was not perfectly so when they were boffers, only the writings were only in the bastard. She delivered them into Thorin’s hands and waited. It was not that she was at his service that she would be kept apart from her swords. He drew the smaller one and handled it to Gandalf, who inspected it and handled down to Elrond. Then he stood up and drew the long one, pleasured to have now the time he wished to examine it. It was a little longer than his height, and by its size it could be used as a mounting sword by him, if it was the case, but it was astoundingly light weighed for a weapon like that. The dragon design on the two faces of the blade was to be wondered at, but some dexterous touches made clear its cutting edges were sharp nonetheless. Elrond got sure of the same with the short one, and licked his finger for it.  
“I have no knowledge of these swords, I’m sorry, although the writing on it is in the High Elves’ language of old. Lócënehtar. I imagine they say the same as is written in Khuzdul, Lord Thorin? Is this sword named Dragonslayer in your own language?”  
“Yes, it is, in Old Khuzdul. Where from comes a sword that brings in itself the ancient writing of both our peoples, I wonder.”  
“From better days, when all free peoples of Middle-Earth fought against their true enemies, and not amongst themselves. Where did you get them, Lady Ellen?” It was obvious Gandalf told Elrond about her.  
“As they are now, I have no answer. In the place I came from, I made them myself. They were no real weapons then, as I was no elf at all, and my nieces were neither dwarf nor hobbit either. It seems we changed to what we had to be while here, and our things too.”  
“Why would someone make a weapon that is no weapon at all?” Thorin asked to himself, but his voice got louder than he meant.  
“Because, my lord, in the place where I come from this kind of weapon is needed no more, but there are some who value its ways, and honor this way of living, and the principles that guide the deeds of the free peoples of Middle-Earth. So we use non-cutting swords, arrows and other weaponry, we learn how to use them, but we don’t actually hurt or kill anybody on purpose. We live at another time and place, were other kind of war is fought.”  
To no surprise, Thorin was angry again. He stood up.  
“What? Are you saying you have no real experience in warfare? And even so you tricked me into hiring you into my service, with mock swords?”  
Elrond stood up too, trying to calm his guest down.  
“Master Thorin Oakenshield, this is no mock sword result!” He said, putting up his bleeding finger.  
“The sword might be true, but and the sword wielder?” He was panting hard, ready to punch someone. “What do you say of someone who offers herself as shield maiden and can’t even wield a real sword in a real battle and really kill a foe?”  
Ellen swallowed hard, controlling her temper. All her years of boffering practice and swordplay study would not be thrown into the garbage can. She could not lose the opportunity to get to Erebor’s legendary Gate as soon as she could, even if it meant to swallow lots of her pride, but the one to whom she swore loyalty was taking her to her edges.  
“Have you tested me, sir? Have I shown myself unworthy of your confidence?” Her eyes went narrow. “You judge me for what you didn’t see, for what you don’t know. All I ask is an opportunity to show what I’m able to do, so you may know who I am.” She out dared him. “Call for your best man. Choose your champion. If he beats me, I’ll be out of your life forever. If I beat him, I will follow you into the underworld if it has to be. I just ask for blunted weapons, because I will be fighting for my honor, and I don’t want to hurt one of your warriors, for you will have need of them all before the end.”  
Gandalf shook his head, Elrond closed his eyes, Iris and Lily run to their aunt’s side when they perceived loud tones. Thorin and Ellen were piercing their eyes one into another across the table, and some of the dwarves positioned themselves behind Thorin as well.  
“Good guests, there is no need to…” Elrond tried to reason.  
“No, there is not, sir, but it must be settled now, or never. I am responsible for my nieces, I must get them back to our world, and the only way I have to do it is getting into Erebor, so I must be one with the lord of Erebor or never fulfill my quest. I must have his unconditional confidence.” She looked at the elven lord. “I must do what must be done.”  
It was a compelling situation; Elrond didn’t want to give in into the challenge, as he was seeing one of his own people harassed, even if he didn’t know her before, but understood it was a matter of pride and well needed adjustment. No company would last long without the unconditional confidence the strange elf mentioned. Elrond called for blunters for the swords and to turn the lights of the training field on. Then the dwarves company, plus their Halfling, got down the stairs making bets, and the three women got along in silence. It could be a matter of bets and jokes for the dwarves, but for them it was completely serious.  
The good looking elf that was at the courtyard when they came to the place – was it Lindir, his name? – appeared out of the blue with some leather things that fitted in Ellen’s swords and Dwalin’s axes cutting edges. To Thorin’s company’s surprise, some potent electrical lights turned on, illuminating a broad patch of freshly cut lawn. They looked at it as if it was magic, but for the “otherworldly” women, it was quite natural. Their lack of surprise for the electric lights did not get blank on most of them. Elrond took his place as judge of the upcoming and unexpected tournament.  
“None of us wants blood shedding. Our enemies are outside these borders, we are here to demonstrate war skill and fair play. Even if I believe none of you will ever think of it, anyone may call for truce or surrendering, anytime. Remember the enemy of your enemy is your friend. You may fight now. Now!”  
Dwalin heard, or did not hear at all, and moved himself to Elrond’s shout, both Ukhlat and Umraz happy to be in his hands. They were war axes, well balanced and fit to his size and strength. The leather blunters could take off their cutting edges, but could not take off its weight and impact. Dwalin was a real warlord, humble to his king but to none else. He was high for a dwarf, almost reaching Ellen’s shoulders, heavy built of pure stamina, muscles and determination. He surely would not make things easy for her.  
Ellen wielded her swords as she used to do with her boffers, as she knew no other way of doing it. The long one in her right hand, it’s pommel settled in her forearm, even if it should be wielded with two hands; the short one in her left hand, both of them in front of her as she studied her opponent. The groove in the pommel of the bastard one fitted her right forearm as a glove. She stood on her ground, silent, breathing the tension around her, the two weapons aligned together in front of her, as she didn’t know which move the dwarf would make. While swordplaying, it was usual to her to wait until her opponent tried for her, and then to block and strike back.  
And the opponent came. Somewhat too self conscious because of his bold stature, he attacked her expecting no response. He did not lack training or skill, but she swept to her side, wielding her short sword to block any chance of his axes to get at her, and touched his shoulder with her leather blunted long sword.  
Dwalin didn’t like it. He was one of the more conservative dwarves in the crew, and he didn’t like the idea of some women, moreover of other races, to be with them. What then the idea of fighting beside one of them? It was absurd. If he could manage to put those weird things out of his way the sooner, the better. And it seemed his king didn’t want them close, too, so if he could manage them out of their way it seemed to be the best thing to do. They faced themselves once more.  
Now Dwalin knew she was not a doll, as she stroke back, and he felt more comfortable to hit her. He moved towards her, slowly, searching for an open gate in her defenses, and he saw her big long legs. They were perfect. He ran to her, wielding one axe up high, to claim her attention to it, while hiding the other axe that he wanted to use to crack her legs. She waited and moved aside in the last moment, stoking him. Her legs were always her weaker part while boffering, so she was used to avoid being touched. He managed to strike back and the heavy axe found her arm above the elbow. She could feel it, but it was not a full strike, and she could endure it.  
“I’m sorry to say, but I think Dwalin will mincemeat your aunt.” The hobbit was beside the girls, a worried look in his face.  
“No way! He is only one!” Iris protested.  
“Yes, but this only one is Dwalin.”  
Two of the dwarves who were always together came by them when heard the hobbit girl defending her aunt.  
“Is she really good, huh?”  
“She is the best!” It was Lily’s turn to praise her. “I’ve seen her beat down some men twice her size.”  
“Let’s make a bet, then.”  
“I don’t know if I have something to bet, the money of our world is different.”  
“Hmm. Do you have more of that canned fish?”  
“No, but… Iris, do you still have any tuna in your pack?”  
“Wow, I think so!”  
“One fish can for one gold piece!”  
“Dealt!”  
Ellen was getting tired, but the dwarf was sweating too. He surely was used to fight for hours, and for her it was a weekend sport. She had to make something soon, last her fatigue would take its toll. She was sure some of her thrusts would have pierced someone trough if it weren’t for the blunters, but none told her the game rules, and she didn’t know when the fight would be considered finished. Dwalin started in her direction again, boosting himself for a harder strike. She ducked at the last moment, stretching her leg in front of his, making him stumble and fall hard on the lawn. She got to her feet quickly and mounted on him before he could rise himself up, but he had rolled belly up and was already with one axe ready for her, even if the other flew further than he could reach. It hit her back at the same moment her swords crossed in front of his throat.  
“Enough!” They heard someone shout. She looked deep into the mature dwarf eyes, expecting to find anger, even hatred, but there was none of it. What she saw was respect. It was all she needed.


	6. Chapter 6 – Happy hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No sense of personal space at all, huh?” She looked down at the cheeky grin in his face, almost level with her breasts.   
> “What use one can have for it?” He seemed already a little drunk and his eyes didn’t get off the lace on her breasts.

After a small meeting between Elrond, Ellen, Thorin, Gandalf, Dwalin and Balin, where it was made clear that she had shown herself worthy of Thorin’s company, she and Dwalin were dismissed, and they all were shown their rooms. The women enjoyed the chance to take a real bath, and some clean clothes and even night gowns were lent to them. The girls were curious about the meeting, and they all chatted carelessly while taking turns in the bath tub.  
The elf told them Dwalin said to Thorin that he thought she was swift, but that her strokes could be harder, even with a well sharpened blade to compensate for it. He noted rightly that she was not used to aim at head and neck, which was true, as in boffering this is prohibited, but it could be fixed with some training. Then Thorin asked about the girl’s abilities, and Ellen explained the best she could without a demonstration. Then he settled that they would have some training from then on, at every spare time possible, and chose Fíli to train Iris, as he excelled in two swords fighting; Kíli would take charge of Lily, as both of them were archers; and Thorin would train Ellen himself.  
“It will be cool, those two are funny!”  
“You are saying this only because you got a gold coin from them.”  
“How did you get a gold piece, Iris?”  
The hobbit laughed out loud.  
“They were making bets on your fight. We betted a gold piece in exchange of a tuna can!”  
“And you got the coin and did not lose the tuna, is it right?”  
Ellen wanted to untangle her hair before of washing it, so it would be easier to brush the dirt away, and was the last to undress to take her bath. She flinched when she took the leather corselet off, then took the once upon a time white shirt off too. Lily whistled, looking wide eyed at the big black bruise on Ellen’s back.  
“Aunty, this does not look good at all!”  
“I know.” She said, wincing with pain when her niece touched it lightly.  
“We must do something, you might have broken a rib! I will see my first aid kit, but it is more likely to have some dried herbs and barks instead of our allopathic medicines. I’ll see if there is some ice in this house, if they have electricity it is possible that they have a freezer, too.”  
“Yes, it might be. Did you see the dwarves’ faces when the lights went on? I guess they think it is a kind of magic!” Said Iris, laughing again.  
“All those waterfalls are a wonderful means of getting energy, if one knows how to use it. This Master Elrond must have his mastering degree in engineering!” Ellen enjoyed the warm water and all the soap foam in her hair, but she was in pain. “Lily, don’t tell any of the dwarves I’m hurt. Let’s keep it to ourselves.”  
“But why?”  
“They may think I’m weak, and if so they will not be willing for us to go on with them. We must go with them, else we will never go home again!”  
  
ooo000ooo  
  
Lily put on some clean clothes, went out off their rooms and found a kind elf who guided her to a kitchen. As they suspected, they had ice, even if it was not in a freezer like they’d recognize as such. But the kitchen was not empty.  
“What are you doing here?” Asked an angry Thorin with a small bucket full of ice in his hands. Lily looked down at the ice and almost chuckled, guessing rightly that he was angry for being caught red handed taking ice to tend Dwalin’s bruises. She knew Ellen could stock hard sometimes.  
“Hmm, just the same as you, sir. Getting some ice. May you tell me where I can find a small bucket like yours?”  
Elrond answered instead of the dwarf, as he himself had guided Thorin to the kitchen.  
“Over there, Lady Lily, chose anyone you wish.”  
“Than you very much, sir.”  
“Are you three having a private drink too?” Asked the elf, breaking an ice bar with a picker.  
“What?” Lily didn’t understand the question.  
“Lord Thorin here said some of his guys were having a private drink to end up the night, that’s why they needed ice.”  
Thorin went red as an apple. He made up that little lie to cover Dwalin’s bruises, he didn’t want anyone to know his mighty warrior had been beaten by that elf. But by the way Elrond spoke to Lily, it seemed he didn’t quite believe that story.  
“Hmm, yes, that’s it.” She made up her mind to fallow the lie. “After so many days of wandering in the wild, an icy drink after a bath sounds really nice.”  
Now it was the time for Thorin not to believe in the lie. He figured out it could be a nice occasion to put that three strange women in their places.  
“Then, lady, it would be a pleasure to share a drink or two with you and your kin. We will be at the dinning room we were sooner.”  
He stumped out of the kitchen followed by the amused glance of Elrond and Lily’s hopeless sigh.  
  
ooo000ooo  
  
“You did what?”  
“Don’t be angry at me, Aunty, if you didn’t tell me not to say anything about your bruise nothing would have happened! You know I’m terrible at lying, I had no other idea than to follow the suggestion!”  
Ellen was laid belly down on a bed, with Lily putting ice on her bruises and smearing some salve. Her arm, back and other places where the dwarf hit her were sore, but she tried not to flinch too much when one of these places was touched. Their medicines turned out to be only slightly changed, it’s packs showing the drawing of herbs and scribbles in that runes they didn’t know. Lily knew each one of the herbs by its design, she loved this kind of stuff, and the camphor smell of the salve was unmistakable, even disguising the comfrey and arnica leaves milder scent.  
“Lily, we are tired, I am hurt, that dwarf hates me, we have no real drink in our packs and you are telling me I must get out of this comfortable bed to have a happy hour with them?” She moaned. “And if I don’t go, I will be letting out that I’m not as well as I want them to believe!”  
“I’m so sorry, Aunty, I did not know what to do! That Thorin unnerves me!”  
“Hey, let’s make a lemonade out of this lemon, girls!” Cheerful Iris was spilling most of the contents of her pack on the floor, until she found what she wanted, an evil look in her bluish angelical eyes. “Let’s see if they are strong enough for our brew!”  
  
ooo000ooo  
  
It was gold rule in boffering contests that no alcohol consumption was allowed, but there were other uses besides drinking that had permission. Lighten a fire or sterilize something was perfectly inside the rules, and for the second one Iris got double filtered cereal alcohol, at 70 GL grades, just one liter, but it would be enough to dilute as to make a strong beverage, as it was virtually a strong vodka.  
They had enough lyophilized fruit juice packs to choose what they wanted. Lily got to the kitchen and got some jars and more ice, and they already had water in their rooms. None of them was too tired for a little mischief, and the ice on the black angry bruises had made its anesthetic effect, and now even Ellen was in good mood for some vengeance.  
Then they put on their own clothes, but the ones they had in their packs for the party that was scheduled for one of the nights at the boffering camp. They were not fine as the elven clothes someone had put for them in the wardrobe, but fitted them well and would look exotic and not quite elvish to the dwarf party, and that was what they wanted now. They were fresh from the bath and all lavender smelling, plus a little camphor in Ellen’s case.  
When they reached to dinning room most of the dwarves were there, laughing and singing their own tunes, having managed to lit a fire to break the chill of the night and to “borrow” a barrel of wine from the cellar. The ones who noticed them coming were quick to whisper and laugh, and swifter still to get some fruit juice. Dori was one to choke at it, much to the others delight and roars of laughter, and the women had their share of easygoing with them. Without their leader around they were much more sympathetic to them, and they finally got the opportunity to get to know each other better. Albeit the duel with Dwalin, or because of it, they were being accepted as ones of the Company. Dwalin and Ellen greeted themselves warmly, because each one knew who the other was, and that they both were on the same side. Ellen was just pouring more of their devilry into Bofur’s mug when she heard a merry voice coming from behind her.  
“I’d like a taste of yours, too!” As Ellen turned with the jar in her hand, she almost dropped it on top of Kíli, who was mere inches from her. “I mean, of your drink!”  
“No sense of personal space at all, huh?” She looked down at the cheeky grin in his face, almost level with her breasts.  
“What use one can have for it?” He seemed already a little drunk and his eyes didn’t get off the lace on her breasts.  
“Usually, mister, to keep in place one’s teeth, if you know what I mean!” She was finding it funny, but didn’t intend to move one inch back.  
“Have some composure, lad! No one messes with my friend here!” It was a somewhat drunken Dwalin who decided to protect her, and to show how much he was her friend by slapping her back. _Of course_ it hit right in the place his last axe blow got her, and she lost her breath for a moment.  
“Mister Dwalin is _completely_ right, mister Kíli, and I would not mess with him if I were you!” She complemented feeling free to hit his chest with her elbow where she knew she had stocked hard earlier. His baffled grunt was her prize.  
Thorin finally made his entrance with Balin and Bilbo at his side. He was pleasantly surprised to see the new acquisitions of his company present, enjoying themselves and making friends with the troop, with mutual respect despite Kíli’s behavior. He was hard to change his mind, and sometimes along the day he had tried to forget that he just hired an elf, but Dwalin’s black bruises gave him a new dimension of her potential, and now seeing all of them together as a family was all he ever wished for an army. These women would not be a distraction, putting the quest at risk, because they were of the same make as them. He didn’t see the younger ones fighting skills yet, but a stone never falls far from its mine, and they were all of the same blood, for more weird that it could be thought of.  
“Company!” All of them quieted at once, looking at him. “We will have to wait some days until the right moon is in the sky. For a while, we will be guests at Elrond’s house. Now, in Durin’s name, don’t you wear out our welcomes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you are having as much fun in reading as I had in writing!  
> This chapter is short, but the next one will be longer, I promise!  
> Comments are welcome and always answered.


	7. Chapter 7 – In the training field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen breathed deeply to the bloody Human Resources Director.   
> “Yes, sir.”  
> “You have a circle of five dummies. Kill them.”

Next morning found most of the dwarves sleeping soundly. It had been a long time since they had had a good and long night of sleep, without watches, and under a secure roof. It was really resting. For the female part of the gang it had been less time, but somewhat harder, because they had had longer watch turns, and so less hours of sleep, plus the anguish of not knowing what to expect each morning. But up with the birds they woke, as they were expected in the training field and it had been so hard to get Thorin and Company’s trust that they would not chance to lose it so soon.  
After a breakfast composed mostly of oat, fruits and milk, much to the dwarves disgust, they set to the field. To the women’s surprise, the hobbit Bilbo was there too, seeming unhappy, with a small sword at his side. He should be trained by Fíli, along with Iris, and it was compelling to him that a girl, and very younger than him, would be training advanced techniques of dual weapon swordplaying and he did not even know how to hold his one right. His _letter opener_ , as Balin noticed. Her were more or less waist high, but incredibly lightweighed, and really worked for Iris. At least it was Fíli to train him, he was more at ease with the younger dwarves.  
Fíli taught him some basic moves and stances and left him alone fighting a dummy. Then he made Iris show him what she was able to do, and begun to correct her balance and swing, as she was not used to sharp blades that actually cut the air. Kíli and Lily were still trying her range, for her weapon had changed much in the transposition of worlds. And Ellen was thinking of how she could escape Thorin’s stern eyes, and reached the brilliant conclusion that it was better to finish it as soon as possible and try to rest her bruises.  
ooo000ooo  
Fíli had put both hobbits to fight one another with blunters on their swords, Iris just with one of them. He said she should be trained with one handed fight, too, in the event of losing one sword or have one hand maimed – or lost, as he insisted to put it to scare them more.  
Bilbo was uncomfortable with fighting a girl. As they were training at an easy mode, Fíli not really much worried to push them too hard, they were able to keep chatting to each other, the three of them. They found out her age in hobbit years should be about twenty-five, that means, in her _betweens_ , the unrestful and irresponsible years between twenty and thirty; but it also meant half of Bilbo’s age, and suddenly he thought himself as a bitter old and lonely Halfling. She was pure radiance, her fire-red curls framing her delicate face lightened by heavenly blue eyes. He thought there had never been someone like her back at the Shire.  
“Bilbo, you will be dead in no time at all if you don’t put your mind where it should be!”  
“Yes?” He turned to Fíli, startled, in his better clueless mode.  
“No! Don’t look at me, look at her!”  
“Isn’t that what I was doing?”  
“Yes, but…” It was helpless. “Oh, forget it. Get a little rest, I’ll show Iris some techniques.”  
Bilbo sat down and kept looking at Iris, her hair flowing in the wind like a flame while dueling with Fíli. The dwarf stopped sometimes to correct her grip, her movements, holding her sword with his hand upon hers, making her move with him, and it was absolutely not needed at all, Bilbo was sure.  
ooo000ooo  
Lily was as happy as she could be, thinking it was more interesting than any boffering tournament she would ever attend to. Kíli was funny and a very nice company, albeit never losing a chance to mock her. First they tested her range, which was a bit short of his, and then her precision, and then precision with range, and that’s when they stopped to see his uncle and her aunt fight, along with her sister and Fíli. The memory of Dwalin’s duel was fresh, but the boys knew their uncle was more than hard beating, and it was obvious the elf was getting a hard time with him.  
The dwarf girl was worried about Ellen, for she knew the extension of her injuries, but she would rather die than to say anything about it to the guys. Having nothing better to do while watching the fight, she begun to curl her side-beard locks.  
“You should braid it.”  
“What?”  
“You should braid your beard.” Kíli answered. “It is the better way to have it out of your way while you are shooting. You really won’t have it tangled to an arrow when you shoot.”  
She smiled at him. He was funny and attentive, not at all angry to everybody like that Thorin. She would like to talk to him more often.  
ooo000ooo  
“I have seen you yesterday, so I have a good idea of what to expect from you. We will use the dummies for you to train vital parts. Sorry for whatever training you had before, but touching is not enough, you must aim for a kill, or dismemberment, or an incapacitating blow, and it must be hard enough to accomplish it. Do you understand?”  
Ellen breathed deeply to the bloody Human Resources Director.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“You have a circle of five dummies. Kill them.”  
The elf smiled at the memory of the _donuts of death_ , a training mode her boffering group use to do. They made a circle and one fighter went to each one for a one hit duel, and then to the next one, until de circle was complete. It was almost as if she had a _donuts of death_ without anyone trying to hit her. But she was wrong.  
Thorin was beside the dummy, blocking her every movement, _protecting_ the bloody dummy. He was not attacking her, which was lucky, but it was almost impossible to reach the dummies at all. When she did, he was right there blocking the power of her blow, making her almost miss, making it touch just lightly, and she was already sweating and breathing hard and didn’t “kill” any dummy at all. It would not work.  
“Come on, can’t you do any better than this? I’m just blocking, what will you do when the enemy attacks you? Die? How can you protect anybody or even yourself in a real fight if you cannot kill a stupid dummy?”  
Goodness, if it wasn’t bad enough yet, now he was bullying her, trying to make her lose her temper. She had had directors like this before, but usually this kind did this to make you lose your mind and disqualify you so they could put a doormat in your place. But Thorin had no need of this, he had already all that dwarves and she was not at a position anyone of them needed. Then, what could it be?  
“I bet a tuna can on the dummy.”  
She heard Iris close by. It was a _relief_ to hear how her niece _trusted_ her, goodness!  
“No way, you are trying to get one more gold piece from me, that’s what you’re doing!” Fíli’s voice answered. Great, now there was an audience to see her failing to kill even one single bloody stupid dummy.  
Then it hit her. There were five dummies to be killed, not one single, and none told her she should kill one at a time like in a _donuts of death_ game. Thorin was right, he was not attacking her. Then it should be just… swing, block, and hit!  
Ellen swung her long blade to the same dummy as ever, and exactly as was being done before Thorin blocked it with his one; she uplifted her short blade to keep his one back-blocked with it and turned around wildly with her bastard sword. The dummies defender could not be in all places at the same time, and three of them “died”, one beheaded, another with its trunk deeply cut and the third with a leg badly severed.  
When she got back to face Thorin he was smiling, but there were two more dummies to deal with, and he was between them. One of them she managed to hit hard on the head as she menaced to head for the other one with her right and hit back with her left. Coming back with a flowing movement she turned around the smiling guardian of the only one bloody stupid dummy, the one she scratched so many times and never got a good hit, changed blockage hands and beheaded it.  
“Now… water… please…”  
She dropped to the ground, panting hard. Thorin looked down at her, brows frowned.  
“You are not used to many hours of fighting, are you?”  
“Not really.”  
She grabbed the water bottle Lily handled her and drank it down.  
“Nor the younglings?”  
“They have better fitness than me, I’m already too many years locked up in an office tower.”  
He wondered what an _office tower_ might be, but it seemed to do no good for one’s health, sounding almost like a kind of dungeon.  
“You will get used in time. If Bombur doesn’t hold back the Company’s pace, it will not be you to do it, either. Enough for you this morning, let’s see how your nieces are doing.”  
Ellen was grateful for the break, it would be her turn to be audience to the girls while making bets. She just didn’t know what to bet, but as it seemed to be important to them, she would find out a way. But then Lindir came by and asked them to accompany him, as Lord Elrond wanted to talk both to her and Thorin together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finaly reached 100 hits, thank you very much!  
> Comments are welcome and always answered.


	8. Chapter 8 - An Unexpected Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And has any of those good looking young optimistic boys given you any clue of what lies there inside the mountain besides the treasure?”

Lily finished to braid her own side-beard in a way it got up to her temples and then around her ears and fell down behind them. It brightened her face, making her sea-deep eyes shine and stand out. Iris was brushing the hair on her feet, still not at all comfortable with this new feature, but resigned to it. If she had to have hairy feet, they would be well tended to. Ellen stepped in the room with the folded map in her hand and a weary look in her face; she sat on her bed and looked up at the girls.  
“Ladies, I wish you are comfortable at your seats and that we all have a nice afternoon. Our goal at this meeting is to...” The girls looked at her as if she had gone crazy. “... ask goodness we all get safely away from this absurd world and have a chance to rest ourselves, heal our wounds and wake up to discover it was all just a nightmare. Forget data reports, scheduling, targets and forecasts. I quit!”  
Then she threw herself on the bed and closed her eyes, while her nieces laughed out loud.  
“Bad meeting afternoon, Aunty?”  
“I am sure I’m not hundred percent elf yet, I still hunger when a meeting gets past noon time and the president of the company keeps on talking, with no coffee-break! By the way, don’t they have any coffee here in this world? No coffee, no espresso, no cappuccino...”  
Lily intervened. “And no chocolate at all!”  
“Oh, no! I didn’t consider this! Then it is far worse than I supposed!”  
“Just kidding, Aunty, I still have some chocolate hidden for an emergency!”  
She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to get a little serious.  
“Then keep it, we don’t know where our misadventure will lead us, keep it hidden from all of us until it is a matter of life or death.” Lily stared at her, astonished. “Don’t look at me this way, now I’m talking seriously, keep the chocolate hidden! Have you eaten any of it already?”  
“No, but I gave one to a boy, I think this Estel is the only child I’ve seen here in Imladris, you must see what a cute! Oh, and he is human, too, or at least he doesn’t have pointed ears.” Then her alarm sounded. “You ain’t telling us that you believe that we may fall into a situation when we could hunger, do you?”  
Lily was the worst person to have around in state of hunger, since she was a child. She really got angry, bad humored, impatient, temper less, to say the least.  
“To tell you the truth, anything can happen. See, if we didn’t find Elrond’s house, our food would be almost gone by now, and then? We had an incredibly luck in finding, or in being found by Radagast, Gandalf and the dwarves. I don’t know what we could have found if we got the wrong way. Thanks to that star in map, we started trying the right way. Elrond does not know about the origin of this map, either, but he guesses it seemingly makes one go to where it shows. We could have entered by any border of it, depending on the lay of the land of where we wandering about in our world. We could have found the orcs and be killed, or worse, and that is a fact. Without the dwarves, we probably will never reach Erebor, and do you know the best of it all?” The girls looked at her, perceiving maybe for the first time how serious their situation really was, if this was result of the meeting with Elrond and Thorin, and maybe more people they didn’t know were there, their aunt’s state after that, and the reaction of asking for coffee and to quit, that was well know by the girls when she was in very sticky professional situations, although she never quit in fact. “I bet a tuna can you don’t guess what lays at Erebor’s halls waiting for us.”  
“Ahh, hmm, Fíli said it was a secret, but that they are going to reclaim a treasure lost long ago.” Said Iris.  
“Yes, Kíli mentioned an old heirloom, but didn’t get into detail.” Lily filled in.  
Ellen sat up in the bed again, hiding her face in her hands, shaking her head, and then muttered.  
“And has any of those good looking young optimistic boys given you any clue of what lies there inside the mountain besides the treasure?”  
“No.”  
Just then came a knock on the door and a smiling black haired she-elf peeped her head into the room.  
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”  
Ellen lifted up her head.  
“Not really, we were just talking a little among ourselves.”  
She perceived some similarities between her and someone she knew, but she didn’t figure out who. The elf had a beautiful contralto voice, Iris noticed.  
“My father said it was more likely that you didn’t take a midday meal, yet. He would be happy to have all of you in our company when you may, we are celebrating my brothers are back home and there will be merrymaking for the rest of the day.” She smiled brightly. “He said you all are kin, is it right? I would love to know the story.” Then she blushed slightly, lowering her liquid eyes. “I apologize for being so curious, it is that we receive so few guests in this dark ages, any novelty is always so exciting!”  
The otherworldly elf laughed warmly.  
“No problem at all, you can be sure we are all as curious about you as you are about us! But,” Ellen added, before she lost the opportunity. “to whom to do we owe the honor of this inviting?”  
The hostess elf smiled up.  
“My name is Arwen, daughter of Elrond.”

ooo000ooo

Iris and Lily accompanied Arwen at once to a feasting yard in the open field, surrounded by orchids on every tree trunk and a long T table in the middle of it, covered with light green table clothes and adorned with some kind of flower they didn’t know. Several elves were there already, some eating and drinking, some playing and singing, some working at a bonfire where several tender pieces of meat where exhaling a delicious smell. The two sisters found themselves delighted by the information that those elves were no vegans at all, they just kept meat eating to one meal per day or less, for their bodies needed much more minerals and vitamins and less carbohydrates and protein than most races. It was not a cultural but a metabolic difference.  
Most of the dwarves were there already, happy indeed to find out this same information, and the girls noses were happy to know they used to take a bath once in a while. They were happier to get acquainted to Elladan and Elrohir, Arwen’s twin brothers, who had been out at an orc hunt. They had a special strife for orcs, as their mother, Celebrían, was tortured by them and never more had been the same, having to go to Valinor, out of the circles of Middle-Earth, to seek for some relief for her physical and mental pain.  
Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen were a very nice company, and made their best so that their guests would feel at home. Thorin himself was stiff and quiet, as usual, but after some time, some good meat and wine, even he was having an easier time among the elves, as Elrond was really unlike any elf he had previously known, specially Thranduil.  
Iris and Lily were having a good time with the dwarves and some elves who were curious about that strange party. The red haired hobbit loved to sing, and was quick to grasp the melodies and was having a lot of fun, moreover when Bilbo begun to teach her some Shire drinking songs and dances. Lily was having her lot of meat as she didn’t know how much she was missing it. So it was that while eating she was quiet, and listened to the conversations around her. She was mainly focusing on Thorin, Gandalf and Elrond, to whom she managed to sit close by, trying to get more information from them, as whatever Ellen was about to tell her and her sister about the meeting would have to wait.  
Elrond was telling them about the current situation in the Misty Mountains, close to which Imladris was hidden. His sons gathered information that orcs, goblins and other evil creatures were increasing in number, and getting bolder, as the raid Elrond himself went after the day before, for Thorin and his company’s luck.  
“The best for you is to go as fast as you can. You can have as many ponies and horses as you need, and lightweighed supplies to grant you speed to reach the other side of the mountains. Once there you may be able to hunt, and maybe find means to re-supply with the Wood- People.”  
Thorin gave him a stern look.  
“I will have no dealings with the forest elves, no matter what you may speak for them!”  
“I was not even considering about it, my friend, if I may be so bold to call you so. I understand the chasm that lies between you and Thranduil. Whom I mean are the human people who live at the west borders of Mirkwood, south of the Old Ford.”  
Lily looked up, perceiving it was the first time since they slid down the cliff that she heard someone talk about human people. It was strange to think that she was no more one of them. She asked Balin, who was beside her, what humans were like in Middle-Earth.  
“Hmm, too tall to be dwarves, too short to be elves. Don’t have our skill to work the stone or fine metal, although some of them are somewhat skilled as smiths. Build their houses in the open, like this Imladris here, not in the cozy midst of the heart of the rock.”  
The dwarf girl could not hold back a smile when she imagined what it would be like living inside a mountain. It sounded so... safe, and comfortable...  
“What is it like in the halls were you lived, lass?” The old dwarf asked, friendly. The girl lowered her eyes.  
“No hall at all, Mister Balin. We lived in a human world. No mighty halls out of the living stone, no gems like stars shining on the walls, nothing like I hear you talking about your home. But then, something in my heart makes me wish it could be home to me, too.”  
“Do you miss your home, lassie?”  
“I miss my father. He must be worried about us, if he found out we didn’t make for the place we were heading to, or will be, when we don’t come home after the meeting ends. At least I have my aunt and my sister here, it would be unnerving being completely alone.”  
“That is true, I always forget the hobbit-lass is your sister. Having a sister is a blessing amongst our people, don’t you know?”  
“No, I didn’t! We both have had some harsh times, we fought a lot when we were younger, but now that you mention it, it seems so clear. Yes, having a sister is a blessing.”  
It was Balin’s turn to have his eyes lost in thoughts.  
“Do you have sisters, Mister Balin?” Asked the curious Lily. He looked at her with a pain struck gaze.  
“I had. Me and Dwalin lost our sister to a fever in the Wandering Days.” Lily didn’t know what that wandering days were, but the old dwarf seemed so heartbroken that she thought it better to keep her silence. “Since then we never found someone who shared our alloy as we both so we could adopt her as our Little Sister.”  
Lily didn’t understand the meaning of those words, its concept, but Balin was willing to explain.  
“To have the same alloy means you have so much in common with each other that you could be born and raised by the same mother, like a mixture of metals that will fuse at the same heat, bend the same way when beaten with the same hammer, splinter the same shards. The way you think, that you deal with things, is so similar one could be mistaken for the other. So is it with me and my brother, and you can see it in Kíli and Fíli, or in Óin and Glóin, for instance. There are few dwarf women, so it is not every man who gets married, but having a sister most of the times is enough to supply one’s need to have someone to care for, and to be cared by. A woman marries just one man, but she can be a Little Sister to more than one, especially if she has no brother of her own and has the same alloy of someone, like me and Dwalin.”  
“You and mister Dwalin don’t seem quite so equal, I dare say, mister Balin.”  
He smiled.  
“I have had my days of stronger arms, as he will have his days of softer words, lassie. But in our core we are the same.”  
Thinking about family made Lily get aware.  
“Where is my aunt?”

ooo000ooo

Soon Ellen was ready, after a good bath to wash down the sweat of the morning training and the uneasiness of the mid-day meeting. She missed Lily’s tender caring for her bruises, but managed to rub herself some camphor salve. But then it seemed everybody in The Last Homely House was out of the house, and she didn’t know where to go.  
Ellen found herself lost, wandering in Elrond’s halls, which seemed to her more and more a labyrinth, each corridor opening to another hall full of new passages, some roofless, some with no wall at all, some dead-ended, and it was getting into her nerves. She was hungry, she was tired, she was worried, she was alone and she was lost. What she saw around her mixed with her blurred and mostly erased memories of the books she had read several times before and the movies she watched sometimes, to the point when she didn’t know anymore to what she was seeing belonged, and if the hum in her head was because of hunger or out of a foreboding which she didn’t know why was there. Like in a trance, she walked more and more corridors, until she found a fine fresco painting on a wall and a severe carved figure in front of it, holding a cloth covered tray with the shards of a sword. She was drawn to it, its whole grip and some of the blade still unbroken, and then several shards lain down beside it. It was obvious they belonged to the same sword, but then, why was it there, unmended? She reached her hand for it, unable to hold herself, and touched lightly the grip with her fingertips.

ooo000ooo

“Lady Ellen, are you alright?” A worried voice came to her as if from a long tunnel, making her try to shake the dizziness out of her head, but to shake her head was far too painful. Her lips were dry, her skin was cold and wet, and Bilbo’s worried eyes, wide and brown, brought her back to where she was. “We were becoming anxious of your not coming to the feasting yard, so some of us came looking for you.” He asked again. “Are you alright?”  
She sat on the floor, rubbing her eyes, and looked at the hobbit worried face.  
“I... I’ll be fine... Just... The sword... The Enemy...” She pressed her temples with her fingers. “Get me out of here, Mister Bilbo, please!” She looked frantically at him. “Get me out of here, there is too much held in here that I must not get in touch, please!” She stood up, alarmed. “Get me out of here!”  
Bilbo took her hand and pulled along the way he knew would bring them faster out of the building. The corridors were shorter now, with the hobbit guiding her, Ellen didn’t ever understand how she got lost. When they were almost reaching daylight two shadows came for her, one from each side, almost knocking her and Bilbo down. That fierce embrace was something she would never forget, and take some time to understand, if it was possibly at all.  
“What are you doing here?” Asked a worried Thorin.  
“There you are!” Shouted a relieved Dwalin.  
She stopped on her steps, hold by so many caring people; touching that sword grip did something to her, made her sensible to what the ones beside her lived and felt; she had lost most of her memories of what she did read about that world, but something changed also, and she was not completely able to understand or control it; she hoped it would vanish soon. Bilbo holding her hand was easy to deal with, he had so a smooth past it was almost a blessing to feel it there, and his feeling for her was that of someone trapped in the same snare, but then those two experienced dwarves were completely different. Now she knew as sure as life they both had no evil thought at her, but in different manners they had strong feelings – dwarves had strong feelings, this was undeniable – and she could not quite make up what was all of this. And there was something harder to deal with: she could, at last at that moment, feel that they had tremendous losses in their pasts, she felt they had hurt to an unutterable level, she felt their past pain and had not how to reach for its source, just the pain was there, the emptiness, the grief, the loss, not the cause, so she could not even try to understand it, to make it out so she could bear it as they did. All her years of self control melted away in those small moments Thorin and Dwalin embraced her as one of them. Ellen looked deep at each one’s eyes, voiceless, trembled and collapsed on the floor.

ooo000ooo

“Welcome back, sleepy head!”  
Iris’s voice was a blessing after the turmoiled dreams Ellen had slept into. She sat up on the bed and looked at her worried niece, and found out the battlefield in her dreams was not there, mercifully.  
“How long have I slept? I am thirsty.”  
“Enough for us to lose a lot of merrymaking but not enough for the barbecue to be over. Take a sip of water and a spoon of honey, it will make you feel better.” The elf did as she was told, both things right at her side table. “Elrond said he wants to see you when you wake up, Lily just got to call him. How are you feeling?”  
“Dizzy. Confused. My head hums. Where are they?”  
“They who?”  
“Bilbo, Thorin, Dwalin. They found me.”  
“They are back to the party, but I think they won’t leave you alone once Elrond frees you of his care, the dwarves at least. What have you done to have them both so gentle at you?”  
“I really don’t know. Thorin is the leader of the Company, he may be just worried with a member of it; Dwalin decided to be friendly at me since the duel.”  
“I don’t think it is so simple.” Iris looked at her strangely. “And almost the first thing you ask when you wake up is where they are. Hmm, Aunty Ellen is flirting...”  
Ellen threw a pillow at her niece.  
“Shut up, little one, or I’ll throw a tuna can next time!”  
Iris laughed out loud.  
“Then it is true!”  
“No, it is not! I’m out of business for a long time now, you should know!” The hobbit laughed more. “Oh, come on, Iris, I have no real connection to them beside our quest,” She quieted, thinking about the memory of their pain she reached accidentally. “I think.”  
A soft knock on the door and both Elrond and Gandalf were there; the elf took a seat beside Ellen’s bed, were she was already seated, and looked kindly at her.  
“Lady Iris, would you please tell the others we will be there soon?” The hobbit agreed and left the room. It was kind way of asking her to leave them alone. “Do you know what happened to you?”  
“No. As a matter of fact, I thought you could give me this answer.”  
“Can you describe it?”  
She did, in as few words as she could, for the memory of the others pain was vivid in her mind as if it were herself who got through those ordeals.  
“In some days someone will be here who can confirm what I suspect, but I’ll tell you what I think nevertheless, because I know you won’t abide being left without any information.” Ellen nodded. “Your change into an elf may be not over yet. Some of us have... mind skills... that evolve with time. When it comes on naturally, we have hundreds of years to get used to it, but things must go faster for you, as you must reach your own maturity level in so as a few days. If we had more time, I’d like to train you into using this gift, as it can be dangerous to bear without training. As it is, with you going into this quest as soon as the moon shows what Thorin must know, I deem it would be wiser to give you a shield.”  
“What kind of shield?” Asked Ellen, confused. She was used to hold a short sword in her left hand instead of a shield, she didn’t want to change her fighting mode more than needed.  
“A mental one. You should be able to block the flow of unbidden for information you get when you touch something or someone. It should also block more of your memory of the future, so to say, because I see it is doing you no good at all. I observed you nieces, their future memory is already blocked, or most of it, but hobbits and dwarves have different minds than ours. To keep your future memory “open” could be dangerous, both for you and for the ones you are with.”  
“Will I be able to lower the shield when I want to? It may be useful.”  
“It is never fully guaranteed how it will work for someone, but most probably you may have just some glimpses. Your and your nieces’ presence in this world has already changed the future you had a memory of.”  
“I understand.” She lowered her eyes, thinking for a little while, and the up again. “And the memory of whom I already touched? Will I ever get rid of that pain?”  
It was Gandalf’s turn to answer.  
“Most probably, no. But if they are able to live with it, you will be able too.”

ooo000ooo 

Dwalin raised to his feet when Elrond and Gandalf approached with Ellen between them, smiling shyly for having troubled so much people in the midst of a feasting.  
“You sit right here, you must eat.” And put her right beside him on a chair he dragged from nearby, not really caring that Bombur fell squashed when the chair he was using was no more where he expected. She begun to nibble a savory peach when a plate was shoven in front of her, with dark bread full of butter, slices of a strong tasting cheese and piles of different kinds of roasted meat. “And I mean to eat properly!”


	9. Chapter 9 – Hot and demanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Elven fancy?” Arwen laughed.  
> “Ah, hmm, I mean, whimsical... bizarre...”  
> “To lose one’s head, huh?” It was Ellen’s turn to laugh.  
> “Yes, ouch, to be beheaded!” And he made a gesture of having his throat cut.  
> “If you ever call me _bizarre_ again, be sure I _will_ behead you, man!”

It was a relief to have only morning trainings, as Thorin believed now that the three women were not so bad at fighting as he thought at first glance. This gave Iris time do what she liked better – nothing at all – and to get to know better her new friends. Together with Bofur, Ori and Nori, some of the younger ones, and also Bilbo, she used to spend most of the afternoons chatting as she would have with her friends on the internet, and sometimes with Fíli and Kíli also, who weren’t thinking about some mischief to do only when they were doing it altogether, and she enjoyed that kind of fun.  
Lily, on the other hand, found company where she didn’t expect it, although at first it seemed awkward to her. It began when she was spending a late afternoon in a secluded courtyard, making some drawings of the architecture of Imladris. The dwarf girl was sure she was alone, and muttered to herself, as she used to when drawing.  
“This is not right. Such a curve means the brickwork is stronger than it seems. It must be made of something else.” The wind in the leaves disguised some footsteps behind her. “This is misleading. A different inner structure, maybe?” She made some notes on the paper margin while mumbling. “Never confide in what you see in an elf dwelling.”  
“And what makes you mistrust an elf dwelling?”  
Thorin’s voice close to her ear made her jump to her feet, dropping paper and pencils on the ground.  
“Ah, I...”  
He helped to pick up her things.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
“No... no problem, sir.” She stammered. “I was just too absorbed in my thoughts, I didn’t hear you coming.”  
He handled her some paper sheets and a pencil, smiling slightly.  
“You draw finely.”  
“Thank you.”  
Lily thought it was the first time she saw him smiling, and she liked it.  
“I couldn’t help hearing you. Do you mistrust these dwellings?”  
To have someone beside his Company that mistrusted anything elvish was fair for him.  
“Well, I see that by these curves it must be made from something stronger than it seems from the outside; it is not that it is not strong, but it seems so frail that can make one misjudge.”  
Thorin weighed the statement in his mind and nodded.  
“You do like buildings?”  
“I am studying for it.”  
“To be a builder?”  
He arched his brows, a little surprised. It was not so usual along women.  
“Yes, in a way. An architect plans, designs, calculates, and guides the ones who will really make the building. Or I was studying, before I came here.” She glanced down at her drawings. “I’m taking some notes for when I go home. If I ever go back home again.”  
The dwarf touched her cheek, finding a small wet streak with his fingertips.  
“Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be back at my home again, too. There is… a long way to go.”  
“How long have you been away?”  
He told her. Then, having kept it for too a long time, he told her more, far more than he intended; the struggle to rescue his people when Erebor was taken, the lack of help of the elven king, the years of wandering, the slow building of his halls at Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains, the battle at the gates of Khazad-dûm, the loss of his grandfather, of his father, of his brother, of his brother-in-law, father of Fíli and Kíli, and the sorrow of his sister; the long years in exile, working the forge to keep his arms strong for when the time to take Erebor would come; the prophecies, the recruitment of his Company, the denial of so many to join him, the hiring of Bilbo; and on he went up to when they met first time.  
“And from here on you know.”  
The sun had set and the stars were long shining bright in the sky when he stopped. Lily was amazed by how many things he went through in his life, and how long that life had been. She didn’t quite understand yet the life span of a dwarf and how she could fit in it. He thought it funny, with all the dense story of his life just remembered, he was having fun on guessing that stranger her age.  
“You must be something around seventy, a little past your coming of age and a little younger than my nephews.” He stroke her hair gently. “These braids stand well for you; you should keep them.”  
Lily blushed, thankful for the darkness to hide her face.  
“I...” She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you.”  
That had been the best afternoon Thorin had had in years, and he knew it.  
“Let us go find some meat.”

ooo000ooo

The first free afternoon Ellen had she thought of getting to know more about Imladris, now that she didn’t have to fear the touch of something or someone and get flooded by memories that weren’t hers. Arwen was happy to have a new friend to run around with, as her people was so slow to have any novelty. Being virtually immortal meant to be responsible in reproductive issues, else the elves would have super-populated Middle-Earth ages ago, and she played the cicerone to Ellen.  
There was the library, which she thought would be nice to visit with more time, the sewing room, the laundry, some kitchens and pantries, the house of healing, manufactories of many skills, living rooms and more living rooms, each one with a different view of the valley. As a matter of fact, it was called the last homely house but it could be called town.  
Then they went outside, to see the orchards, the horses and ponies, and then the stranger elf saw smoke curling up from behind some trees, where there seemed to be a dark stone building.  
“And over there, what is that?”  
“Hmm, I didn’t know there was someone working today. I think you will like to see it, as Father told me you made your swords yourself. It is our forge.”  
“Arwen, don’t mistake things, please! I made boffers back at my world and they changed themselves into swords after we came, it doesn’t mean I ever forged a single kitchen knife, all right?”  
Arwen laughed heartedly.  
“I know, my friend, but if you kept your swordplaying skills, why would you not keep your smith skills?”  
“Because swordplaying is not so different from one place to another, and making a sword out of steel is completely different from gluing and duck-taping some pieces of plastic!”  
“Maybe you are right, but if you liked this boffer making thing, it might be that you will like to smith, too. It is hot and demanding, but to see in your hands something you have made yourself is a delight!”  
They got close to the building and heard some clangs of metal against metal; then they got in, careful to close each door after passing through, so the heat would not get out nor any fresh air get in, as any piece of forgery could be spoiled if it got a cold wind at the wrong time. In view of this, Elrond’s forge had a twisted entrance, with double doors, so the wind could never reach the workplace.  
There really was someone working, hitting something in the anvil, his bare shoulders at them. He wore only his pants and boots, plus a though leather apron to keep his chest and tights from getting any spark. Sweat was dripping from his shoulders and arms, glistening from the light of the fire.  
“Very hot, indeed!” Murmured Ellen, not meaning the forge at all. She knew who was there by the design of his boots, besides the fact that he was the only dwarf of that bearing she knew who wore no braids.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Kíli turned around to face them when he heard Ellen’s voice. She thought it must be a family use to greet people with this phrase. Arwen blinked.  
“This is the forge of the house of my father. I am showing my friend around. What are you doing here?”  
Ellen chuckled to see his embarrassment, tough Arwen stressed some words just for fun, not really to press him.  
“I am here because I asked your brother if I could use it to make some arrow points, for I lost a lot of them against the orcs. And the one you call your friend is member of my company!”  
“And which of my brothers did you ask to?”  
“How can I possibly know? They look all the same!”  
The three of them laughed heartedly, because the twins were really identical, having lead to several confusions at the recent party, mostly when Kíli got so drunk he thought he was seeing double and could not understand why his double visions were not acting identical. The elves were curious to see Kíli’s technique of making arrow points out of small pieces of mild steel, for dwarf arrow points were very different from the ones the elves used to make. He was making some broad-headed ones, hammering hard to get them into the shape he wanted, somewhat curved and with a good tang to fasten them to the shafts. He finished the one he was making and drank some water. As Arwen said, to smith was hot and demanding, and Ellen thought it was a pity that so much work would most probably be lost when the arrow was shot.  
“Just for me to understand some things better, how many arrows do you use to carry with you?”  
“Hmm, up to two dozens in the quiver, else it goes unbalanced, but then I carry more inside my backpack when I can, as we are going into a far journey.” He smiled wryly. “You never know what dangers you may find in your way.”  
Ellen laughed back. “Yes, like a bunch of strange ladies in a cave!”  
“Ouch, that was the most terrible peril I ever faced! From an orc or a troll I know what to expect, but between a hobbit-lass, a dwarf lady and an elven fancy one can lose his head in a minute!”  
“Elven fancy?” Arwen laughed.  
“Ah, hmm, I mean, whimsical... bizarre...”  
“To lose one’s head, huh?” It was Ellen’s turn to laugh.  
“Yes, ouch, to be beheaded!” And he made a gesture of having his throat cut.  
“If you ever call me bizarre again, be sure I will behead you, man!”  
Their laughter was interrupted by someone getting in. It was Figwit, who came to call Arwen back to the main house, as someone called Galadriel had arrived.  
“Grandmother is here? I’ll go at once!” She turned back to Ellen. “You stay or go as you wish, I believe you won’t get lost anymore after all we wandered today!”  
Ellen thought getting lost was something to consider seriously, but kept it to herself.  
“I will stay a little longer, I want to see the arrow point making from the beginning.” She turned back to the dwarf. “If this master smith allows, of course.”  
Kíli returned her a cheeky smile.  
“You are welcome!”


	10. Chapter 10 – Cotion of Ponfusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli looked up at him with a sheepish smile.   
> “Thank you, Uncle. It makes me more self confident to talk to you knowing you won’t throw me down a mountain for asking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Cotion of Ponfusion” belongs to the Munchkin card game.

Galadriel was the mother of Arwen’s mother, which made her Elrond’s mother-in-law. She looked quite well for her age, which as a matter of fact could be counted _in ages_. Both things summed up, it was funny to see Elrond making his best to host her properly and make her feel at home despite the bunch of dwarves that lingered there waiting for the right moon.  
The three women had their opportunity to get acquainted to her, although not in the firsts days she was there, probably busy with her own family. In the meanwhile, they kept training in the mornings and doing other things in the afternoons. Iris noticed that Lily was having swordplaying classes with Thorin, besides arrow shooting in the mornings with Kíli.  
“I thought Thorin said we mustn’t train in the afternoons. Has he changed his mind upon you?”  
“Not really, Iris. He just said that if I ever get out of arrows it would be wiser to have a sword handy, and I told him I was a long time without swordplaying, and he kindly offered to lend me a hand to regain practice.”  
“I really cannot imagine that one doing anything _kindly_.”  
“See, Iris, he is not that rough man he seems on the surface; you must get to know him better before you judge. He has responsibilities, to his people, to his Company, and now even to us; it can be a heavy burden. But underneath he is sensible, trustworthy, caring...”  
“I bet a tuna can you are in love.”  
“Iris!”  
“Only in a disturbed mental state can you say he is _sensible_ and _caring_ , Lily! I have seen he train you, he yells at you, and then he takes more time scolding you than really training you, or at least so it seems from afar.” Then Iris completed, matter-of-factly. “And the most disturbing mental state possible is being in love.”  
“I am sure you are the right person to state this, Iris, because you are really mentally disturbing our hobbit friend, don’t you?”  
They both laughed out loud.  
“I really... “Iris tried to catch up her breath. “I really believe Bilbo must be somewhat mentally disturbed, for sure! He gets sooo angry when Fíli takes my hand to show how to swings the sword, we begun to make it on purpose!”  
“That is silly of you, Iris! Bilbo is so a sweetheart, don’t treat him bad!”  
“It is not really treating him bad, it is just that he is so funny when he is angry, I can’t stop myself, nor the boys!”  
“By “the boys” you mean Fíli and Kíli, right?”  
“Of course!”  
“Don’t you think one of them may really be interested in you, and all this you are doing to provoke Bilbo can give them hope?”  
“No way! We are made of the same alloy! As we say back in our world, we are _birds of a feather_!”  
“So, you have become _Little Sister_ to them?”  
“Sure! That’s why I know none of them is interested in me for anything else, if you know what I mean.”  
“I know... but Bilbo, does he know?”

ooo000ooo

Iris was right about Lily, of course. But, knowing how Thorin and Ellen kept arguing with each other, Lily didn’t vent out whatever she felt, not to him for fear of being rejected by the mighty king, nor to her aunt, for fear that she would try to talk her out of her feelings, which she knew was impossible. Old human Lily in another world would be able to forget him, even to find another love, but dwarven Lily had a heart made out of brittle crystal, and it would be broken forever without him. So she kept her feelings all to herself, for if she told it to the already suspicious Iris, then half Middle-Earth would know everything in a week, and the rest of it in a month. Iris was not very good at keeping secrets, most of all Lily’s secrets. So, Lily loved and suffered alone.  
The only one who knew something about her feelings was Kíli, for training archery each morning was more fun than anything else, and they more chatted than trained, somedays, especially when Thorin was not in sight. Although Lily sensed Thorin was not really that bad as Iris said, for what they chatted in the middle of the training used to be nothing related to what they were doing or to any scolding, she complained to Kíli that his uncle seemed to be continuously angry at her, and the young dwarf explained that Thorin really used to be that way with the ones he cared about, like him and his brother. It gave her another point of view into the matter.  
“Then, I’m not hopeless at all!” Lily smiled at herself.  
“Hopeless of what?”  
“Ahm, hmm…” She mumbled blushing, embarrassed.  
“Is it so important to you if he cares?” He looked into her eyes with his dark emerald curious eyes. There was no mischief in them that she could fathom, but Lily just lowered her eyes, shy, feeling stupid. She would never be so shy in her own world, nor have so a strong need of feeling _cared for_ by someone. “Then, lady, let me tell you that never in all my life have I seen uncle _so angry_ with someone as he’s been lately to you.”  
“What do you mean? – Asked a confused Lily.”  
“ _You_ should ask _him_ , don’t you think so?”

ooo000ooo

Arwen reunited her new female friends for a tea with her grandmother. Despite her great power, at that moment, in the company of her grand-daughter and a bunch of strangers, Galadriel seemed relaxed, as if with them she could be more off guard than usual. They chatted, exchanged family stories, cooking recipes, gossiped about man, all that kind of stuff women use to do when properly isolated from the other genre. Then the Lady mentioned their mind blockage issue, after talking a little about the world transition the three had gone through.  
“Elrond is wise. The knowledge of the future is always perilous, even for mighty ones.” Iris thought that the absolutely unmodest elf was talking about herself. “Sometimes, to act against a foreseen future only grants that it will come to be.”  
“But we still remember somethings, my lady.” Lily complained. “As soon as I saw you, it came to my mind that you are the Lady of Lórien, where you dwell with Celeborn, the Wise.”  
“And I remember you have something of water, I just can’t figure out what.” Iris contributed. The tall blond elf smiled slightly.  
“But what you just told me are things that _are_. The knowledge you have of this world in not affected, as it is just this, to know about things that already _are_ and are no secret.” She turned to Iris. “That why you can’t remember what about _water_ I have, lady halfling.” She turned to the whole group. “I suppose you won’t remember things that _are_ but that could make you take a different decision from what you would if you didn’t know beforehand.”  
“Hmm, it makes some sense. Although the one who guards Erebor’s treasure is there for a long time already, it did not come to my mind as a known thing when I offered my services to Thorin. If I had thought of it then, I would probably fear and back off.”  
The Lady narrowed her eyes and looked at each one in turn, Arwen included.  
“No one who stands before me right now would back off of anything for fear. Not one.”

ooo000ooo

They heaped the new arrows in a pile and laughed at each other. Instead of the slow and boring labor of making them one by one, they used some basic principles of mass production which gave them speed and quality, even if their assembly line counted only two workers. The time they spared with technique was not wasted, but shared with warm friendly chatting, in the beginning, that evolved into deeper conversation, understanding and, finally, into feeling. Ellen was no kid to ignore Kíli’s masculinity, even if in his dwarf-age he would be a lot younger than her, and he was well aware of the woman behind the leather apron. Each afternoon at the forge they got closer, and few days were enough for them to know they had found their match.  
At first Ellen was confused, as she was so long in an “out of business” mode, as she used to say, since the only man who had been her equal in daring to live fully died years ago in a snowboard accident. Before him, and after him too, most man just tagged her as “deserving someone better than them” (which was true), or were simply scared of her. She had her professional life so well resolved, she was so used to be in command, leading people to do what was to be done, that most men didn’t figure out what to do with her. And such men she didn’t need by her side, so she didn’t have them. But Kíli was different.  
He feared her not. It was quite simple: everything that made ordinary men perceive her as a menace, made him think of her as someone he could trust his life; where others saw her as authoritarian, he saw someone who did what had to be done; and in what others saw her as weak, he understood she was merciful. But now, how to deal with Thorin, with his irrational mistrustfulness towards elves? Even when Ellen was born human?

ooo000ooo

Iris and Fíli had come to be the best friends one could ever imagine, as he found in her someone to talk about his beloved one, faraway in the Blue Mountains, and she found in him someone to talk about her feelings for Bilbo, who always seemed more disturbed by her presence than happy to see her. A male friend who already knew Bilbo for some time helped her to know more about him, even when he avoided her, as she perceived was happening sometimes of late.  
Fíli decided he would help his brother, as usual, and made up a plan to make Thorin agree to Kíli’s interracial crush. He knew Thorin was good willing to Iris and thought of a way he could make his uncle agree to what otherwise he wouldn’t. He managed to get Thorin’s attention at the end of a training morning, when Iris already had headed to her rooms.  
“Uncle, I want to ask you a sensible question.”  
Fíli bitted his lips as if he were nervous.  
“Sure. Go on.”  
He was in an exceptional good mood, having past most of the previous afternoon in the company of Lily. The young lass had the gift of settling his mood, making him laugh and to forget the dangerous paths that lay ahead of him.  
Thorin was thinking seriously on asking her if she had some feelings for him, but Lily was so much younger than him that he feared to be laughed at. After all, in her dwarf age she was even younger than his nephews. To be rejected by that youthful lady would be death to him, proud king of his people.  
Fíli cleansed his throat and begun.  
“You see, Uncle, I know you are very serious about what is a proper behavior… and relationship…”  
Thorin looked straight at him. That lad was spending a lot of time together with that hobbit girl.  
“Yes?”  
“… and I was wondering what would be your opinion on a… hmm… non usual... _crush_ …”  
He scratched his head, looking down at his boots. He was gaining his uncle’s curiosity, which usually made him softer for novelties.  
“And what kind of _crush_ are you talking about?”  
“Hmm, well, I, ahmm…”  
“You can speak up, son. The worst that may happen to you is hearing a “no”, all right?”  
Fíli looked up at him with a sheepish smile.  
“Thank you, Uncle. It makes me more self confident to talk to you knowing you won’t throw me down a mountain for asking.”  
“It seems very important to you, I see. You can talk, Fíli, don’t be shy.”  
The lad spluttered out all at once.  
“Would you approve an interracial relationship in our family?”  
Thorin already guessed something like that. Iris was a good looking girl, although beardless; Fíli was young, but would soon come into an age when he would want to marry. He took in a deep breath and put a hand on Fíli’s shoulder.  
“Fíli. My lad. I know I am old-fashioned sometimes, and you know I am responsible for our people. It is not usual to one of Durin’s folk to marry someone from other people, but it has happened before.” Fíli looked at him wide-eyed. He didn’t know of this. “Or where do you think that old song “My Wife has no Beard” comes from?”  
The young dwarf smiled broadly.  
“So, you think…”  
“If there is really love, respect, compromise; if the woman you love behaves as a proper dwarf, honoring our traditions, being loyal to our people; then, Fíli, all I can do is to bless this relationship, and wish for some healthy heirs to Durin’s line.”  
They hugged warmly though Thorin didn’t have the slightest idea of what was going on. Then they heard a thud and found Bilbo fallen on the ground.  
When the hobbit came to his senses he protested it was all for the heat of the sun on his head and lack of water, but his face was distressed nonetheless. Fíli offered to help him back to the house, but he refused peremptorily, stumping hard out of the training field.

ooo000ooo

Fíli told Iris and Kíli the success of his mischievous plan to grant Thorin’s agreement on Kíli’s flirt.  
The three of them were laughing out loud after Fíli mimicked Thorin’s reaction when Bilbo came into the dinning room, the place he felt better in Elrond’s house as there was always something to eat and ease his heartaches. He heard them laugh and almost backed off, not to disturb what he deemed was a merry commemoration for the betrothal he was sure to be happening soon between Iris and Fíli. But Kíli saw him first and was fast to jump up and grab him by one arm.  
“Mister _Boggins_ , what a joy to have you here in this moment of rejoicing! Come on, have a pipe and a cup of iced tea, as Master Elrond doesn’t allow us into his cellars while the sun is up in the sky.”  
Bilbo mumbled an excuse and tried to flight, but Fíli got his other arm and they dragged him to the table where Iris was seated, smiling at him, fresh from a bath after the morning training and dressed up in a bluish elven gown, which made her eyes stand out so sweetly he almost forgot what he heard at the training field. Almost.  
Iris talked to him, bringing his mind back to his suffering.  
“Fíli told us you were there when he spoke to Thorin. Have you really witnessed it? His agreement?” She was radiating.  
“Yes.” He mumbled.  
“Hey, come on, lad, ain’t you happy for us?” Asked a grinning Fíli.  
“I understand you might be happy.”  
“Bilbo, what is wrong with you?” Iris pleaded. “Does it seem wrong to you?”  
“What would it matter anyway?”  
“Bilbo, you are our friend, our buddy!” Kíli insisted. “Does it really disgust you so much what I feel for someone who is different from my own people?”  
The hobbit was startled.  
“Then is it you, not Fíli?”  
“Sure!”  
“I couldn’t have guessed.”  
It made no difference at all which bloody dwarf had the love of Iris. It was not him, anyway. Iris intervened, serious now.  
“Dearest Bilbo, do you deem it wrong for different folk to… get together?”  
He tried hard to sound reasonable, not to sound too prejudiced, but his voice gave him away as a disturbed person.  
“It is not that I think it is wrong, it is just that… there are uses and ways of doing things, and of thinking things, you know, all this cultural stuff…”  
“But she said she is willing to learn our ways, isn’t it so, Iris?” Came in Fíli. She nodded in agreement.  
“And then, I apologize if I may seem not too romantic, but there is the difference in height, do you know?” And the halfling made a gesture with both hands, signaling about one foot between them.  
“Oh, she doesn’t care at all!” Grinned Kíli. “I know it may be strange, people will be staring at us, in the beginning, as she is really tall and I barely reach her breast height, but…”  
“What?” Bilbo interrupted, alarmed. “Are you saying she is _taller_ than you?”  
“Of course she is!”  
“Then…” A glint of hope shone in his eyes. “You were not talking about Iris?”  
The two brothers almost fell from their chairs laughing, and Iris blushed almost to the color of her hair when she answered him with a smile.  
“No, Bilbo, they were _quite not_ talking about me!”  
Fíli was the first one to regain composure.  
“Come on, Bilbo, Iris is our Little Sister, don’t you know?”  
“No, I didn’t!” He was smiling for the first time in days.  
“They are my best friends, Bilbo, but they are _not_ the person I’ve fallen in…” Then she blushed again, much to Bilbo’s delight and new laughter outburst from the boys.  
“I really didn’t understand Fíli was not actually talking about him and you, Iris.”  
“Nor did Thorin!”  
The boys looked at each other and burst into laughter again.


	11. Chapter 11 – Cotion of Ponfusion, Booster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uncle… Thorin…”  
> The brokenhearted dwarf looked up at his nephew.  
> “Yes?”  
> “Who, in Durin’s name, Uncle, are you talking about?”

Thorin was getting impatient with the slow pace of the moon. He was eager to read the hidden signs in the map and then hit the road again, but there was also a good feeling in staying at just one place, and he wondered how it would be like to settle down at Erebor and grow a family, like his sister did at Ered Luin. But then he would have to have someone at his side to grow a family with, wasn’t it so? Then, why to wait? Fíli was finding his way into settling down with someone, and he was so much younger, why couldn’t he?  
He could ask her. She was not used to dwarven ways, she didn’t know it was the woman who chose the man, he could ask her. The worst that could happen was if she said “no”, and then he would have his heart broken to pieces, but he could try again until she said “yes”. One of the good things about being a dwarf was that none thought it strange of one insisting on a matter until getting it settled. After all, he was being the most respectful and protective he could, making it clear to her that he thought of her as his jewel, and to the others that that jewel was found by him alone and that he would keep her faraway from any greedy looks.  
Anyway, he could seek for counsel with Balin, who was not married but was his best advisor. Thorin just didn’t know how to explain what he was thinking without actually saying who was the one he was interested in, as there was no other dwarf woman in a hundred miles range or more. Maybe he could approach the matter in a philosophical way, but then most probably Balin would ask him what he was babbling about and demand him to speak clearly.  
His flow of thoughts was interrupted by Kíli, who approached him gingerly with his sheepishly smile in his face. What was wrong with his nephews that day?  
“Having a nice day, Uncle?”  
The mature dwarf looked at his nephew thinking what in Durin’s name he meant with that.  
“Now that you mention it…”  
“Uncle, I’m so happy that you agreed to all that Fíli told you this morning…” Thorin got a feeling that somehow he would regret things sooner than he thought of. “That I’ve come to thank you for being really moved to allow our family to grow from now on.”  
“What a weird talk, lad, just spurt it out like your brother did this morning, would you?”  
Kíli muffled down.  
“Sorry, Uncle, it is that sometimes you seem to be so angry at her that I thought you really didn’t approve her in our Company at all.”  
Thorin thought if the one he was just wondering about understood the real meaning of his feigning being angry at her. Was he being so harsh to Lily to show his strong feelings that he might be misunderstood? She was not born dwarf, after all. And now his nephew was talking about what, actually?  
“What do you mean, son?”  
Kíli stared down, but uplifted his eyes as he spoke.  
“You treat her so harsh sometimes, that anyone would think you don’t like her, Uncle. I am sorry to say. But I’ll be bold enough to say that I don’t care, and that I’m in love with her nevertheless!”  
“You _what?/ _” Thorin was out of himself, but Kíli held his step.__  
“I’m in love with her, no matter what you think about her.” Kíli was bold now, he did hold it back for too long. “We are spending lots of time together, and we treasure every moment and every passing day together, Uncle Thorin, you cannot imagine what it is like to be with her, she is really special, she is not like any other girl I’ve known, she _approves_ who I am, and I don’t care if you put her to her edge, she is strong enough to bear it with no complain, and so will be I!”  
Thorin shook his head in disbelief. Was he really being so harsh at her that it got beyond the borders of what was caring to what was abusing? And she found solace in his nephew and they fell in love? Then, he himself had put Lily to train with Kíli, what would he expect? She was young, younger than Kíli, and he was an old grumpy dwarf that would never satisfy her need for people of her age, to say the least. He bowed his head, heavy hearted.  
“You are right. I will not interfere. It doesn’t matter what I feel for her, I have treated her too harsh and I deserve to be left to myself. You are young, you and your brother are the future of Erebor, I’m only an old dwarf with a heavy burden on me. I should not think of throwing this burden on the shoulders of one so young. For the much we have… spoken to each other… I know she is one to make your days brighter and… to ease the burden of being responsible for a people.”  
Kíli wondered how his uncle did know so much about Ellen, and what he meant by “what he felt for her”, but kept it to himself. Thorin rambled on.  
“I will… I will not feign training her anymore…” Feigning? He almost _killed_ her each morning! “You can keep her beside you every afternoon, when I used to walk with her in the courtyards and argue about… so many things…”  
To walk beside her every afternoon? How, if they spent the afternoons in the forge?  
“Uncle… Thorin…”  
The brokenhearted dwarf looked up at his nephew.  
“Yes?”  
“Who, in Durin’s name, Uncle, are you talking about?”

__ooo000ooo_ _

___Thorin was beside himself out of joy but also out of rage. The joy was that Kíli was not interested in Lily at all, and gave him some hints nor Balin, being more experienced, nor Glóin, being the only one married in the whole Company, would have means to give him._  
The rage was because he would never ever even consider an elf as part of his family. It didn’t matter what he said to Fíli that very morning, no elf would never ever step on the high halls of Erebor, not even over his own corpse.  
But Kíli was willing to question his uncle and king, and mentioned some words Thorin said earlier.  
“Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, head-dwarf of Durin’s line, first in the heart of Mahal, I swear by the Arkenstone that I will never compromise to anyone improper to Erebor’s halls, and that anyone compromised to me will be loyal to our people, honoring our traditions and none of the sons of Mahal will ever be ashamed by her!”  
“This is what I expect from an heir to Durin’s line, and this means no _elf_ will ever be this one.”  
“Come on, Uncle, she is not a regular elf, an ordinary elf, she was not even born elf by the way, she was human until some days ago!”  
“This is what Gandalf says, but he also believes these three ladies have changed into what their hearts belong to, so, mind you, in her _core_ she _is_ an _elf_.”  
“But not in her history!”  
Thorin looked at him side eyed.  
“What do you mean?”  
“She is not born to Gondolin people, nor to Thranduil’s folk; she is not related to any other elven people from Middle-Earth nor from Valinor. Ellen is not one of them, none of her kin has ever done something wrong to our people. You cannot blame her for other folks’ faults, nor for being what she is!”  
“You can never trust an elf.”  
“Uncle…”  
“Enough!” 

__ooo000ooo_ _

__Ellen didn’t have the slightest idea that things were so complicated among dwarves, although she knew Thorin was not the best mooded person at her. She gained his respect for her skills, but being an elf there was always something she did or said that disgusted him, and they argued every morning, before, during or after the training. Most of the days, before, during _and_ after the morning trainings. She already had a notion that it was due to them being far too similar, both of them were used to lead people, and forgot what it was to be leaded. She at least was used to deal with formal hierarchy even when a director had this position only because of politics and not out of meritocracy, having learnt to swallow her pride in those circumstances, but Thorin was far too competitive for her to deal with that. He didn’t have to compete with her, _he_ was king over his people, anyway, but she felt he had to prove himself above any other person, or, better, above any _elf_ in his Company, and that meant _her_. She could not risk the chance of not going to Erebor and find the mythical Gate that could lead her nieces back home, so, she decided to keep her _close encounters_ with Kíli to herself until she felt it was safe._ _

__ooo000ooo_ _

___The long expected night finally came, when the moon was a crescent bow, and fortunately at the same season the moon-letters on Thrór’s map were written. Thorin was summoned to Elrond not long after nightfall, and the Company would be to itself for a long time, along with elves who had Midsummer Eve as a long expected holiday._  
Despite the long aged distrust among dwarves and elves as peoples, when some of them got the opportunity to get together as individuals, they behaved as any other people, looking for a chance of knowing each other, to share stories, to exchange information, curiosities, songs, habits, culture. So, when the one who had personal reasons to distrust elves was out of sight and the other dwarves, the hobbits and some of the younger elves in Rivendell found themselves together at one of the wide roofless halls of the Last Homely House, they naturally begun to chat, to tell jokes, laugh together, and so on. As it was a feasting day, it was easy that out of nowhere a barrel of wine appeared and begun to be shared among them. Soon some of them begun to sing, and some instruments popped up seemingly out of spontaneous generation.  
The dwarves begun a joyous song, and some elves started to dance. But the song moved Lily strangely to dance in a different way the elves did, and she let her body move according to the feelings her body experienced, stamping her feet and clapping her hands, moving herself in circles. The elves left the dancing arena when perceived her different dancing stile and that the other dwarves cheered her up. Bofur’s flute sang wildly, every final note in the compass matching Bombur’s loudest beat on a drum one of the elves leant to him.  
Iris and the half a dozen elves were quick to grasp the simple and repetitive, although joyous and heart filling dwarven song, clapping their hands to help the ever faster rhythm, and the cheering dwarves were helping Lily to swirl herself ever faster on herself and around the circle they formed. She was becoming dizzy for all the swirling, but was not able to stop. She knew if she tried to stop all of a sudden she would surely fall down, and although still being swirled her smile was gone and her eyes were wide in panic.  
Then the song ended abruptly at the same time she felt strong arms embracing her and steadying herself off the expected fall. Lily could feel a strong chest behind her back and a heavy and deep breath before she heard his voice booming beside her ear.  
“What do you think you are doing?” Lily thought for a moment that Thorin was mad at her, but he went on. “No surprise all of you, except for Glóin, who is not here at this mess, are a bunch of singles. This is not a courteous way to treat a lady.”  
Some of the man shuffled, ashamed. It was not kind to be scolded by their leader in front of strangers, even strangers with whom they were sharing wine some minutes ago. Lily felt better for herself but guilty for the boys; it was not their fault alone. But on he went, not giving them time to apologize. His embrace got softer, his hands touched hers.  
“When a dwarf woman dances, you must be respectful. Your place is not to make her spin wildly as a spinning top toy, but to guide her steps and assure her movements.” He made her turn around to face him with just one smooth movement. “Remember a dwarf woman is a Jewel Mahal gave us the honor to admire and to take care of. Do it wisely, even in the things you may think are lesser.”  
His hand in hers made a subtle pressure as his leg moved to her side, prompting her body to move with his. Bombur’s drum beat once. Another step. Twice. A back step. Thrice. Fíli grabbed a violin an elf had been playing and joined in as soon as he perceived which dance Thorin was demanding, and smiled to himself, knowingly. He could be an enigma to most man, but he was _his_ uncle, and he knew him well enough. It was more than pretending to teach his companions how to behave with a woman, it was to make clear to them that _this_ was not a woman to be messed with, and to the strangers that he was kingly enough to shut up anybody’s mouth without being too obvious about it.  
“A Jewel is born in the dark; you must do your best to bring her to where she will shine more, the light.”  
He made her swirl around herself and around him, but it wasn’t dizzying her. His firm grasp on her hands guided and steadied her, as before, showing her face to all in the dancing arena, Bofur’s flute joining in.  
“A Jewel is not meant to be kept hidden, all to yourself. A Jewell is to be shown proudly, for she is a blessing Mahal gave you.”  
They danced side by side, her hands up and clapping as before as he guided her in a smooth movement of his hands on her arms, his hands then touching her hips and helping her to turn around.  
“A Jewel may be rough sometimes, and you must have the determination to find her smoother side.”  
In a series of hard steps, he managed to put her on the middle of the circle and to round her while she kept the rhythm with her heels. Iris found a way to match her voice to Bofur’s flute.  
“A Jewel shines on herself, you only have the privilege to be lightened by her shine. Be grateful for this if you want to keep her at your side.”  
And side by side they danced, one of his arms behind her back, his free hand reaching for her hand in front of them. Lily was amazed by the way he guided her body with unconspicuous touches of his hands and legs; she never danced so lightly before a dance she didn’t know beforehand.  
“A Jewel must never be broken by you, for her shards will pierce your heart, and you will be like dead without her, but with her forever inside your heart.”  
He turned her around to face him and moved her body with his while he was speaking, bringing her closer to his chest. With his last word the music stopped, the same moment he embraced her fully and held her eyes in his gaze. She could hear her own heart pounding in her chest and smell his warm breath close to her lips. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes shone dangerously. She wished that moment could last forever.  
The magic was broken by cheers and clapping hands around them. Thorin blinked and Lily understood they had been under the same spell. He let her go, reluctantly, and they looked around. Some more elves had gathered around while they were dancing, seemingly Elrond’s youngsters and Ellen. She was clapping her hands too, with a mocking smile at the corner of her mouth. Thorin eyebrows frowned.  
“This was quite a demonstration, Lord Thorin.” Smiled at him Arwen, Elrond’s younger one. “Where I a dwarf lady, I’d be sure honored to be thought of as a jewel.”  
Lily blushed. What seemingly begun as a scolding of the dwarf troop turned out to be a courting dance, and she didn’t know where to hide herself.  
“Thank you, Lady Arwen, but it is duty for a king to command respect to his people and for an uncle to teach his nephews some manners.”  
What? Was it just this for him, classes for Fíli and Kíli? Lily looked at him angrily. She still felt the warmth of his hands on her body, the smell of his breath so close to her lips, and he was just giving classes, out of duty? 


	12. Chapter 12 – On the Road Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When have I ever messed up with anything that you really wanted?”  
> “In alphabetic or chronologic order?”

Next sunrise found them well on their way. The Company departed from Imladris in a fresh morning, full of hope and in a far better mood than when they arrived there. For most of them it was a more than needed refreshment, as they were traveling with almost no rest at all since the Blue Mountains, and that was months ago. The only thing to blur their mood was that Gandalf would not be with them, as he had to attend a meeting of the White Council – seemingly his boss was about to reach Imladris that day.  
At first there was a little bemusement for the dwarves, as the three women found out in the worst moment that they had to ride and none of them had the slightest idea of what to do with a horse or pony. If anyone had thought of this, they could have at lest tried to learn the basics back at Imladris, but it was completely out of her minds that it would be necessary, as they found the dwarves on foot and none of them ever had a need to use a horse as transportation; on the other hand, no dwarf nor elf would ever guess that they didn’t ever ride a pony before  
“Be at easy, Lady Iris, you will get the knack of it right away.”  
Bilbo was caringly trying to ease Iris’s fear of falling down the pony Elrond lent to her. She laughed.  
“Bilbo, dear, please do _not_ call me a _lady_! I go embarrassed, it is not used in my world for some hundred years already!”  
It was _his_ time to go embarrassed.  
“But then, how should I beckon you respectably? You definitely are not a lady – I mean, a girl, if you feel it suits you better – that should not be treated the most respectably way one could.”  
“But Bilbo, you already treat me with all respect someone can dream of! As a matter of fact, sometimes you are even _more_ respecting than you should, do you know?”  
He considered what that could possibly mean, but things didn’t quite fit.

ooo000ooo

Lily and Ellen had had a long conversation the night before, after the dance incident. The elf was amused by what she thought she had seen and wanted Lily to confirm her suspicions, but the dwarf-lass was reluctant to open herself to her aunt, and also still angry at Thorin mentioning the dance they had as a lesson to his nephews. Now, with them trying to balance themselves on the pony and the horse, Ellen touched the subject again.  
“Lily flower, dear, you don’t have to be shy at your aunty! You know I have always been at your side, don’t you?”  
“Yes, Ellen.” The girl answered, quietly.  
“When have I ever messed up with anything that you really wanted?”  
“In alphabetic or chronologic order?”  
They both laughed at their internal joke. Then Lily got serious again, lowering her eyes to the reins of her pony.  
“Aunty, I know what I feel for... someone... but I’m not so sure about him. No more.”  
“You know we are among people who have different customs and traditions from what we are used to, don’t you?”  
“Yes, I fancy, but how different?”  
“I dare say different enough for strong feelings to be misunderstood; the dwarves have a different way of showing they care for someone. They must show they are strong and protective, and it can sometimes be mistaken for harshness or bad temper, specially in more mature ones, if you take what I mean. Another point is that in our world it is more usual that a woman waits for the man to take the initiative, and this is not quite so with the creatures of Mahal. A miner may find a jewel, but it is the jewel who chooses to be with her guardian, because she is not his property.”  
“You are already talking like a dwarf, Aunt! How do you know so much about them, or about how they show their feelings?”  
Ellen laughed quietly.  
“I have had some opportunity to know more about them while you were having your swordplaying classes, dear! Now, I must talk to you about a serious matter. If you are... interested... in the someone I guess you are, you must know there will be a high price to pay, don’t you?”  
Lily shook her head.  
“What do you mean? What is the price?”  
“To have Fíli and Kíli calling you “aunty” right away!”

ooo000ooo

After the conversation with Lily, Ellen settled beside Dwalin and Balin and they chatted like old friends exchanging news. As a matter of fact, since the duel they both used to discuss warfare with her, who actually had her mastering degree in strategics and was fascinated by the opportunity to compare business strategy with actual warfare. To ride close to Kíli was impossible with Thorin’s personal dark cloud hovering over his head, and they had had almost no opportunity to talk to each other after Thorin’s negative. They had embraced and kissed warmly after the Midsummer-Eve party, and parted knowing it would be hard to have a chance to be together on the road, now that Fíli’s plan had failed. But the Jewel Dance and her talk with Lily were giving Ellen ideas, and she thought there was a chance to negotiate things and turn the tide.  
Lily was still unhappy, but pondering the things her aunt explained to her. It was not at all different from what Kíli had suggested days ago, and shed some more light on Thorin’s undecipherable personality. He was responsible for his people, as she herself said to her sister, and they were going to reconquest their own home from a bloody beast, and having three strangers within his company was disturbing, most of all because dwarf women never went to war; so, she was not only a stranger for being not known before as she was a weird stranger, a dwarf-lass fighter in the wild, something unthinkable by a dwarf mind. Then it hit her. If he was being harsh to show he cared, it was her turn to show him she appreciated his care and protection. She managed to advance her pony to his side.  
He nodded, looking at her sideways, to acknowledge her presence beside him, but nothing more. She had to be bolder if she wanted to clear up things.  
“It was a nice dance.”  
“What?”  
“Last night. When you saved me from being spun around. I would have fallen if it weren’t for you. I didn’t have the chance to thank you until now.”  
He looked at her, smilingly.  
“It was nothing.”  
“For me, it was a lot.”  
They rode a little more in silence. In front of the Company, it seemed easier to get milk from stone than to get a decent conversation with Thorin. She got an idea.  
“What should a jewel do?”  
“What?”  
“While dancing, you said the things a dwarf should do when he finds a jewel. And the jewel, what should she do?”  
He smiled. It was a good thing that she wanted to know more about dwarf-lore. If his plans came out as he wished, she should be one versed in everything about his people.  
“It is not so different from what the guardian of the jewel should do. To take care even in the things you may thing are lesser, this is the first verse for both.”  
“And then?”  
He begun to declaim quietly, thinking that she probably would not like the second verse.  
“A jewel is formed in the forges of time, so, she has not to have haste; a jewel must shine brightly to show honor on her guardian, and to make him proud of her; a jewel shall always polish herself, to shine more and more truly, else her finder may think she is a mere pebble; a jewel has a light of her own, so she is bound to enlighten the ones around her; and a jewel must be whole, unbroken and unbreakable.”  
“This is beautiful.”  
“Yes, but serious too. If you pay close attention to the verses, you will see it is a code of conduct, an instruction list of how a man and a woman should behave to each other. Care, respect, independence, confidence, patience, continuous self improvement, integrity, and of course, compromise for life.”  
“I still think it beautiful. In my world it is hard to find people willing to compromise for life.”  
“For a dwarf, anything different from compromise for life is not an option.”  
“Why?”  
“A dwarf may even have some flirting, though it is not very commendable, but tolerated; beyond this, there is only one way.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
He turned to her and made sure she looked into his eyes when he said.  
“A dwarf loves only once in life, and it is _for_ life.”

ooo000ooo

They made a good distance along the day, stopping shortly to eat and rest a bit, the women having help to get down from the ponies and horse, feeling sore for the first ride of their lives. Iris found out there were sore muscles she didn’t even know that existed. At least, they didn’t have to carry everything on their backs, which was a blessing. Thorin had called for the halt beside a creek, and they begun to set up camp. Lily realized it was the first time they would camp along with the dwarves and was curious about how they dealt with outdoors fare. They brought no tents at all, as they followed Elrond’s advice to ride light and fast until they reached the other side of the mountains, having to keep their warmth at night only with the bedrolls. As it was summer, it would not be a problem while they were on the plains, but up in the ridge of the Misty Mountains she saw snow and got apprehensive. She got to the creek to wash her hands and face and stirred up a couple of woodcocks, squawking angrily for her coming too close to their nest. It gave her an idea and she begun to rummage along the bank.

ooo000ooo

Fíli, Kíli and Iris were the ones to watch the ponies while they grazed, as after the troll incident Thorin would not allow his nephews to do it alone, but they still were a choice for this task due to their good sight. They just could not have the chance to get distracted with each other, and Iris was one who had the ability to make them focus, believe it or not. Usually she was the one who hushed them when they talked too much and got distracted, but this evening Kíli was awkwardly silent, and Iris noticed it.  
“All right, Kíli, what is the mischief of the day?”  
He just shook his head, his eyes lost in thought, pretending to look at the horses. Fíli perceived there was absolutely nothing right with his brother.  
“Kíli, what is wrong with you?”  
The dark haired dwarf closed his eyes, not wanting to let it out. Along the riding day it was easier, but now he could not avoid their questioning.  
“Uncle is wrong.”  
“As we usually find out when he goes not along with what we want, is this it?”  
“Fíli, this time it is different. I am not at flirting, this is no joke, no passing fancy! Without Ellen I will _die_! How can it be settled?” He looked at his brother with eyes wide open, glazed as if with a fever.  
“Hard-headedly speaking, it could be just a matter of time, as Thorin is older than you and in the long run it is most probable that he will die before you and then you will have to comply with his decisions no more, but I’d rather get things settled long before his passing away happens, as I respect him deeply and would really love to have his blessing on our union.”  
The three horse-watchers looked up at Ellen, who happened to step in the middle of them out of the blue. Kíli sprang up and embraced her, burying his face into her long raven black hair.  
“I missed you so much!” Kíli’s voice was hoarse. She lowered her head to his shoulder and replenished herself with the smell of his body and the heat of his hands. She muttered softly under her breath just for him to hear.  
“This day away from you was like a whole year to me!”  
He stepped away and looked sternly at her eyes.  
“But I saw you talking to Balin and Dwalin all the day long. You didn’t seem to miss me then!”  
She shook her head, smiling.  
“Kíli, Kíli, Kíli, try to be a little more self-confident, would you?” By the look in his eyes Fíli and Iris knew it was not the first time that kind of issue had emerged. “Don’t be angry at my Little Brothers, or who do you think is distracting Thorin right now so I can come close to you? He is worse than a bloody watchdog, your uncle!”  
Kíli looked up at her, pulling away form her hardly two inches.  
“What will we do? I will lose my head if I have to be another day away from you!”  
“As an old professor of mine used to say, it is possible to negotiate _anything_.” She had a mischievous look in her eyes. “Keep calm, I have a plan.”

ooo000ooo

After dinner Ellen managed to get Thorin’s attention mentioning something about the ponies, and they walked to where the small herd was tied for the night after grazing. He sensed something queer would come, but had his mind far too occupied with the memory of Lily looking for him to talk along the day that he was almost off guard. Almost.  
“Lord Thorin, I would like to have more diplomatic words but I have not. We must talk. From leader to leader.”  
“We have nothing to talk about.”  
“Yes, we have, for the safety of the Company’s sake.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You must have your Company whole, focused, united, or you will never get through what has to be done to get Erebor back, and you know this, as you are a leader of men.”  
“Yes. And so…?” He uplifted an eyebrow.  
“One distressed man can bring trouble to everyone. I would not risk our safety out of pride if I were you.”  
“Hear me, elf, if anyone in my Company is distressed it is only because of you! So, if you really care about safety, you should stop distressing the one we are talking about.” He was angry now, but she was not less than him.  
“What distresses him is not me, but the lack of me, and this is because of you and only you! Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrór, to whom I swore loyalty, I ask you to use your senses and lift up your forbiddance. I know Durin’s line has had unbearded women before, be less Neanderthal and use your reason! There is nothing in me that could possibly tarnish your line!”  
Thorin hadn’t the slightest idea of what a Neanderthal was, but it sounded to him that he would not like to know anyway.  
“You are an elf, and this is enough.”  
She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. It would not be easy.  
“Do you trust the judgment of Balin and Dwalin?”  
“Of course I do. I’d trust my life to them.”  
“Then why don’t you trust their judgment on me? If they believe we are from the same alloy, why don’t you? They being my Little Brothers doesn’t make me a little dwarvish too? Am I not stubborn enough for you?”  
He was sure she was, but he himself was more.  
“Things are not so simple, woman! I cannot agree to a relationship that will only bring frustration and sorrow to my nephew.”  
“I would _never_ do anything that could possibly bring sorrow to him!”  
“No? Why are you going to Erebor, in first place?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “To find the Gate and flee to your world, that is it, leaving a broken hearted boy behind! You have _no idea_ of what can happen to a dwarf who loves and is forsaken!” She tried to say something but he kept on, bitter. “Yes, I know an elf can die for grief, but we dwarves have not this grace; we struggle on, each day a torture, the memory of the beloved one haunting your unsleeping nights and your nightmare days, until the day comes when you should die, and this can be hundreds of years far when you talk about a youngling. So if there is any chance that you will do this harm to Kíli, beware of me, for I’ll hunt you and assure you regret every tear you may make him cry!”  
The silence was cut by his heavy breathing. He was really angry, and now Ellen perceived why. It had nothing to do with her being an elf at all. But, thanks to Varda, it was already settled in her heart.  
“Sir Thorin, I acknowledge your worries, but I swear you can rest assured that you will not have to hunt me anywhere, for I have already made my choice. I must find the Gate of Erebor because my brother, father of my nieces and my only family, must at least know what happened to us. I understand Iris is far too young to decide for herself, and I deem she should better go back home; Lily has already come to age, she can decide for herself, although I believe I know what will be her choice, but it is not mine to tell; and as for my own choice, sir, it has already been made. I will stay. My place is where Kíli is. I will not break his heart. I would shed my very blood for him.”  
“Be careful with what you promise, Mahal uses to grant the wishes of whom tempts him.”  
“Thorin, I am willing to give up my entire life, in fact my very _world_. I’m leaving _everything_ behind, would you really begrudge me your blessing? You told me of what happens to a dwarf that loved and was forsaken, but what of a dwarf who loves and is forbidden to fulfill his love? Will his life be less miserable knowing there is a jewel for him that he can never have? Or what more do you hold against me?”  
“If you are _able_ to understand, I mean my nephew should not be bothered by someone of less than royal lineage.”  
“Well, sir, I am not sure if _you_ are able to understand a mastering degree in business administration can be far more significant in the place I came from than a bloody lineage.” He stared at her with steel eyes and she got on before he could say anything. “And before you think badly of my manners, by bloody lineage I mean a lineage that is carried on by the blood.”  
“Actually, you are _not_ in the place you came from, so it may be wiser for your health that my nephew is not bothered anymore.”  
Ellen gave him a sheepish smile, finally putting her plan at work.  
“As you wish, sir, as long as my niece is not bothered either.” He gave her a sharp look. Until then, he was sure he was not being so obvious. This switched the balance, although he was already almost convinced by her arguments. Almost. “Not that I care if she is bothered by someone of less than a first line university, as long as she is _happy_. Not like all aunts and uncles, I trust the judgment of the children of my sibling.”  
“It is _not_ that I mistrust my nephew’s judgment, it is that I _am_ responsible for him, I _must_ keep an eye on him.”  
“Hmm. So, then, I believe we can think of this as an exchange of favors.” Said the elf, narrowing her eyes, with a mischievous smile in her lips.  
“What kind of exchange?”  
“I keep an eye on your nephew, while you keep an eye on my niece.”  
This was possibly the best excuse he needed.  
“Dealt.”

ooo000ooo

Next morning the Company awoke to the smell of fried bacon. Lily and Ellen, who had offered to take the last watch, were frying eggs in Bombur’s large frying pan and serving them in a row of the general purpose bowls the company used for every meal, along with chunks of bread and butter the elves had provisioned them with. The heavenly smell got into Thorin’s nostrils as he dozed out of his dreams half expecting to see his mother smiling at him at the door of his bedroom back at Erebor, a life ago. He opened his eyes to find Lily beside him with a bowl of fried eggs and a mug of mint tea ready for him.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I’m just taking care of the breakfast. I found some nests yesterday and collected the eggs. We had some bacon left from our former provisions. I...” She lowered her eyes, shyly. “I noticed at Imladris that you like fried eggs in the morning. It is only a small thing, but...”  
Thorin lifted up her chin with a finger so she would look at him.  
“This is not a small thing. Breakfast was not even your duty today. Why?”  
“I... I know it is not proper for a dwarf woman to be out in the wild; it would be otherwise if I could; but as it is, I don’t want to be a burden, I want to be useful, and if I can make your day start better with this little effort, why not?”  
“You made the day of the whole Company start better, not just mine.” He was smiling now.  
“It would not be fair to treat them any different only because you are the one...” Her voice disappeared.  
“The one what, child?”  
She found a way to dissemble and said quietly, while rising to her feet and trying to disappear.  
“The one I call my king.”


	13. Chapter 13 - Uphill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The legends are coming alive!” Shouted a frightened Bofur. Iris shouted back to him.  
> “What’s the matter? In my world, you are legend!”

They rest of the day wore with no news; those of the Company that noticed the strange ongoings among grumpy uncle and his nephews were relieved to see Kíli smile again. He and Ellen just rode side by side, talking small, but it was obvious that the strain that was there for some days already was gone. Even Thorin seemed more lighthearted, as if making up his mind about this issue freed him to go on with his own thoughts.  
Several days later Lily and Iris were sharing one of the night watches. At first Thorin thought that the women should not, but then it came to his mind that if they were to be treated as equals by his men in warfare, then it should be so in everything else. The only exception he made was that they should not watch alone until he was surer about them.  
They tried to be the quieter possible, so as not disturb the Company’s sleep, but Iris could not quite hold her curiosity on what Lily was doing next to the fire with the scabbard of the new sword Thorin gave her before they left Imladris. She came closer and whispered.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m pyrographing.”  
“How? You don’t have a pyrograph here!” Said Iris, stating the obvious.  
“But I have fire, and my Swiss Army switchblade. I’m heating the screwdriver and using it to mark the leather.”  
“What is this design? I figure out I have already seen it somewhere.”  
“It is a surprise. Now stay quiet, we should not disturb the others.”  
It snapped to the hobbit-lass where she had seen that design.  
“You should kiss him.”  
 _“What_?”  
“You should kiss him. It is obvious you are in love, why else would you get into the trouble of pyroghaphing his personal knot into your scabbard?”  
“Iris, I cannot simply kiss him, what would he think of my behavior?”  
“And when in life did you care about misbehaving?”  
Lily sighed, and Iris went on.  
“Hear me, these guys cannot see the obvious even if you shake it in front of their eyes, you must be subtle as an oliphaunt in a crystal store to make them understand what you feel, ok?” She looked around to make sure she didn’t wake up anyone. “Kiss him, stupid!”  
“Oh, shut up, Iris, why don’t you go and kiss Bilbo?”  
“Why do you think I haven’t already?”

ooo000ooo

Next day it begun to rain, much to the Company’s disgust, as they were approaching the mountains and climbing that step slopes with wet ground didn’t sound at all a smooth ride. Thorin called for an early halt, deeming it better for them to start the mountain paths early in the morning rightful rested. There was no means for a fire to get started, and they huddled up together under the trees in small groups, for warmth and company. Thorin managed to sit beside Lily with the excuse of having a better view of the camp. They exchanged some small conversation, then he noticed Lily’s things beside them. His eyes grew wide.  
“What have you done to your scabbard?”  
“I...” She stammered, fearing of having done something improper. “I just made some decoration on it, I thought it would do no harm.”  
He took it in his hands looking at the careful made fire markings on the leather. He remembered the day he made that sword, back at Imladris. He should have perceived something was going on along Kíli and Ellen right then.

ooo000ooo

He asked permission to use Elrond’s house forge and went for it, the idea of the sword already in his mind. Lily was doing well with her bow, but she should have her own sword for an emergency, if she ran out of arrows. There was no point in him training her if she would have no sword to use. He closed the first door before opening the second one asking himself who could probably be there, as he was hearing the sound of talking and laughter. He opened the second door.  
“What are you doing here?” Uncle and nephew spoke at the same time. Now Ellen was _sure _it was a family use, no doubt. Kíli took an arrow from the pile to show what he meant.__  
“I am working, Uncle.”  
“And so will I.”  
Thorin made sure the fire was well tended and put on a leather apron. 

ooo000ooo

“Lily, I must... explain to you something about... dwarven uses... the meaning of some symbols, and how they are used.”  
“I am sure I did something wrong now! I offended you!”  
“No, not really! I... I liked what you did. Very much, indeed. But I... I must be sure you understand its meaning and if you mean what it means, do you understand?” It was confusing, but she nodded nonetheless. At least she would know what she had done wrong this time. “If after I explain it you find out that you don’t want my knot on your scabbard, you are free to remove it, do you understand?”  
“Do you want me to remove it?”  
“No!” He answered hastily. The he took in a deep breath while he thought how to explain. “These knots are very personal, I believe you noticed.” She nodded slightly. “Each one of us has his own. They are used as... a family mark, so to say.”  
“But Fíli and Kíli have different knots, and they are brothers, and they are different from yours, too.”  
“Yes. This is because it is the mark of who is, or will be, a... family head. When Kíli and you aunt get... betrothed, she will use his personal knot.” The example was useful for not to be completely direct. “When she uses his knot it will mean that what belongs to her belongs to him too; that they belong one to the other.”  
Her heart beat fast.  
“Then, when I put _your_ knot on _my_ scabbard...”  
“You meant that these belongings of yours belong to me too, to say the least.”  
She shivered for more than cold. Did she hear him right? Did she really understand what he said? Iris’ voice came to her mind. “ _Kiss him, stupid_!”  
“And you don’t want me to remove your knot from my scabbard?”  
He noticed her shivering and thought she really looked like a delicate white lily flower blown by the wind. Carefully, as if she would break if it were otherwise, he put his arm around her and pulled her a little closer.  
“No.” He gazed into her deep sea blue eyes. “And you, do you want to remove my knot from your scabbard?”  
Iris’s voice shouted inside Lily’s head. “ _Kiss him, stupid_!”  
“No.”

ooo000ooo

The hard decision of the next day was to leave the ponies behind. Some scouting made clear the path was too step and narrow for any four-legged being that not a goat to climb it, so the only way was to backpack their things and let the herd go. Gandalf was nowhere to be seen, although he said he should catch up with them before they begun the uphill stride.  
Albeit having subsided during the first days of the climb, the rain came back late in a dark afternoon, making the whole company feel miserable. Worse than a thunderstorm were two of them banging together in the heights, the snow white ridge of the mountains hidden by clouds, justifying its name, and the only light to be seen was that of the lightning. A bolder crashed down close to where they were, making them stick themselves to the cliff, shaking from cold and fear. One more lightning showed the noise was more than thunder: down in the valley they could see the frightening form of a stone giant, throwing a boulder to another one, huger than the first.  
“The legends are coming alive!” Shouted a frightened Bofur. Iris shouted back to him.  
“What’s the matter? In my world, you are legend!”  
Just then another bang reverberated, a boulder thrown higher than the giants’ battlefield hit just above them, sending down a drizzle of stones.  
“Run!” Thorin’s powerful voice commanded from the front of the line. “Keep close to the wall, and run!”  
Easier said than done, but they struggled on the best they could on the slippery stone path when the mountain under them begun to move. They could hardly believe, but they were on the knees of a stone giant. As they ran he moved, making them lose their balance; the giant stepped out of his resting place, carrying the last ones away from the cliff; Ellen, who was near the end of the line, managed to push Iris to the path but she herself, along with Kíli, Bombur and Bofur, went off on the creatures’ knee, much to the others dismay. Kíli heard Fíli shout out his name, but all he could do was to look back at him in terror, as were the others beside him, until the giant’s step made them lose sight of them.  
A loud crash from stone against stone and they were able to jump back onto the path, on a small ledge Thorin and the others were quick to reach.  
“Where is Iris?” Ellen shouted, being not able to see the tiny hobbit-lass.  
“I’m here!” She cried from the back, dragging herself out of the edge. “Help Bilbo!”  
Bilbo, indeed, was hanging a foot bellow from where Iris was before, looking up with desperate wide eyes, trying to hold foot but finding nothing that would not slip under his hairy feet. Some of the boys tried to reach his hand, but it was too far bellow; then Thorin himself found a place where to hold on and jumped down the path to push Bilbo up; Several hands were ready to pull the hobbit up as soon as his hands were reachable, but Dwalin had to lend his hand to Thorin for him to manage to clamber up again.  
“We almost lost our burglar!” Stated Bofur, relieved to see his friend safe.  
“What difference would it do? He’s been lost since he left the Shire.”  
Thorin’s voice was bitter, he was himself past weariness and in no mood for any cheers around him. When he turned around to hit the path again, Iris was right in front of him, her sky blue eyes lightning anger at him.  
“How can you be so harsh? Bilbo saved my life!”  
He just looked down at her, shook his head and led them to get away from the giant’s wrestle. Too much danger to face yet to waste time worrying about hurt feelings, anyway.

ooo000ooo

A couple of hours later they found what seemed a small cave where they could hide for the night. There was no means to light a fire to dry their drenched clothes and moods, but it was enough for them to rest. They shared some way-bread and the last of Iris’ tuna cans.  
“Now I’ll have no more tuna to bet with you!” She said sadly to Fíli, who was at her side.  
“And I will never more have a chance of having a tuna can all of my own!” He mockingly complained.  
None of the Company was really in mood for much talk. Some of them managed to light their smoking pipes, as an exhausted reward for the miserable day. Ellen tried to disguise her disgust for the smoke going to sit down at the cave mouth, looking outwards, but Kíli followed her with his pipe in hand, embracing her with the other.  
“Anything I can do to make you more comfortable, my fancy?”  
She laughed to herself quietly.  
“Not at all. I... I’m just trying not to be an anti-smoking squad, all right? The cave is small, here the air is fresher.”  
He looked up at her, frowning his eyebrows and putting his pipe as far from her as he could.  
“I didn’t know it bothered you. Sorry. If you want, I...”  
“No, shut up, silly! By the smell of it I know that what is used to smoke here is not at all what is used at my former world; and if it would do any harm I’m sure Gandalf would not smoke it. It is just that I quit smoking several years ago and can’t stand smoke anymore, even the smoke of incense. Or maybe it is an elf thing, I don’t remember having seen anyone smoking back at Imladris, do you? Maybe my changed body just does not tolerate it very well.”  
Ellen rested her head against Kíli’s shoulder, and he caressed her neck soothingly with the pipe-free hand. She had braided her hair to her back when they were about to start the climb, not wanting it to hinder her in an adverse environment, even if it used to ‘behave’, as she used to say. The elf sighed.  
“It was a long day.”  
Kíli nodded.  
“Go take some rest. You must be exhausted.”  
She shook her head, disagreeing. He went on.  
“I saw the look in your eyes when we got down from the giant’s knee and you didn’t find Iris. Too much strain on you, go take some rest.”  
“It surely was not different from the look I saw in Thorin’s eyes when he saw you on the giant’s knee.”  
“You are not Uncle, and he has gone to rest already, why don’t you?”  
“I’m uneasy. I don’t know why. I think I’ll share first watch with Bofur, if you don’t mind.”  
He emptied the ashes from his pipe knocking it lightly downwards on a stone; then stowed it in an inner pocket of his cloak.  
“Just stay at my side and wake me up when you go to rest.”  
“I didn’t hear your name be called to take second watch. You sleep this night.”  
They kissed gently, then stood up and he gave her that cheeky smile she loved so much.  
“And how will I be sure you go to sleep after first watch?”


	14. Chapter 14 - Underhill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What have you brought to me, hmm?” His voice was as loud as he was fat.  
> “Dwarves, your Malevolence, plus an accursed _elf_ ,” The goblin spat the word in disgust. “and _this_.” He shoved Iris closer to the Great Goblin.

Ellen was slumbering in her uneasy thoughts, one hand on her long sword’s hilt, as she used to do when in watch, and the other caressing Kíli’s hair, as she used to do whenever possible, when she more sensed than heard Bilbo light steps on the sand floor. The darkness of the cave plus her downwards cloak hood made it uttermost unperceivable that she was awake and aware, and so she kept to herself. But Bofur, close to the cave’s entrance, didn’t.  
“Where are you going?” Bofur whispered to the hobbit.  
Bilbo stopped in his steps and looked back to Bofur  
“I am going back to Rivendell.” Bilbo stated, desolated.  
“What? But _why_?”  
“Bofur, I am really sorry, but I don’t belong to all of this, this...” He was fighting to find the right words. “... this treasure-seeking, these grandiloquent things; I just want to be back home at the Shire, to live my _normal_ life...”  
Bofur shook his head disapprovingly.  
“You are just _homesick. ___It happens to all of us.”  
“No, it doesn’t!” Bilbo was on his _clueless mode_. “You see, I’m really not _used_ to live this way, wandering, each day at one place, homeless, and...”  
Then he perceived Bofur’s hurt gaze at him, and looked at the other dwarves. If he could bury his head on the ground right then, he would. He shook his head, not having words to mend what he’d already said. But Bofur had.  
“I wish you luck. And that you will be happy anywhere you go to. I really wish.”  
Bofur was about to embrace Bilbo when they heard her.  
“But I don’t!”  
A hushed and angry soprano voice called behind him. Bilbo put his hands on his head and closed his eyes hard when he heard Iris.  
“You are abandoning us! Abandoning _me_! What do you think you are doing, your selfish brat?”  
Bilbo was completely distressed by Iris’s quiet outburst. She was about to hit his chest again with her closed fists, with all her hobbit-size might, albeit not disturbing anyone of the sleeping company. But then Bofur noticed a slight blue gleam around Bilbo’s scabbard edge.  
“What is this?”  
“What is what?”  
“ _Wake up_!” Thorin’s voice boomed in the cave as the sand glissaded through a crack in the floor. He wasn’t asleep either when the hobbit sneaked his way and perceived the danger as soon as it appeared. In no time at all they all were falling through a tunnel, then down on a scaffold like thing and surrounded by pale ugly and not properly dressed creatures that pushed them along a narrow path, none of them too gently. Soon they were in front of a big round-bellied mass of fat with seemingly a bone thing in his head for a crown and the worst case of goiters one could think of. The Company had been stripped of their weapons, which were lain in a heap between them and the bariatric surgery applicant.  
“What have you brought to me, hmm?” His voice was as loud as he was fat.  
“Dwarves, your Malevolence, plus an accursed elf,” The goblin spat the word in disgust. “and _this_.” He shoved Iris closer to the Great Goblin.  
“Hmm, and what is _this_ , I wonder? An _elf puppy_?” He laughed out loud from his own bad joke. “Strange days there are when dwarves and _elves_ walk in the same company. And what was this lot doing at my porch? Spying? With all this weaponry on you, menacing my people? Speak!”  
All of the company stayed mute as a stone.  
“So, if you won’t talk, then you will squawk, that’s what I say!” His voice boomed to his brood. “Bring the Bone-Breaker! We will have some fun!” The goblin crew cheered him up. “And with whom will we begin, huh?” He eyed them, amused. “The accursed _elf_? Or the _puppy_?”  
Ellen thought that if he called her niece a _puppy_ once again it would be more than Iris’ patience would bear, but under the circumstances it was not likely that anything would happen like the first time someone had the stupid idea of calling her a _puppy_.

ooo000ooo

Five years old Iris came whining to her aunt on a community barbecue. She sobbed angrily to her, complaining.  
“Aunty, the naughty boy took my softy and doesn’t give it back! I asked him _please_ , but he didn’t! I want my softy!”  
Ellen looked at the crying girl and cursed in silence, because the little one had been so happy when she got the orange soft drink _before lunch_ that it was uttermost unfair that it should be gone. It would be easy to get the can from the brat and finish the complaining, but it would not finish it _for life_. Iris would have her first class of squelching a problem Ellen style.  
“Go say to him that if he doesn’t return it to you he will suffer dire consequences.”  
The girl run to try to fix her problem, only to come back sobbing even more.  
“He...” She hiccuped. “...he said he would not and that I whine like a _puppy_! I am not a _puppy_!”  
It was getting worse, but could come out better.  
“Iris flower, dear, what’s your daddy’s name?”  
“Wolf... Wolfram...”  
“You see, he has a _wolf_ in his name. Do you know a wolf is a very powerful predator?”  
“Ya...”  
“That no one messes with a wolf and gets out unscathed?”  
“Ya...”  
“If you are a _puppy_ , it is the _puppy_ of a brave wild wolf, do you understand?”  
“Yes!” She whinnied no more.  
“And what does the young of a wolf to one who harms it?”  
Iris smiled mischievously and ran away. Five minutes later the parents of the boy were complaining that their precious kid had been bitten by a red haired _monster_.

ooo000ooo

Thorin moved to the front of his Company, making sure Iris would be behind him, and faced the Great Goblin.  
“Leave them alone. This company answers solely to me.”  
“Very well, indeed. What do we have here? Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór! King Under the Mountain!” His voice sounded amused. “Ouch, but I forgot! You have no mountain at all! Which makes you... nobody, really!” Thorin clenched his teeth but kept his adamant gaze at the fat ball. “I have a friend who will pay dearly for your head. Just the head, nothing attached! I bet _your beard_ you know him. The Pale Orc, that’s him.”  
Thorin eyes went narrow in disbelief. He himself hat cut that accursed one’s forearm at the gates of Khazad-Dûm, the very day he lost his grandfather and earned his nickname.  
“The Defiler died years ago from his wounds.”  
“Indeed?” The jelly globe laughed. “He will be amused to know it, I am sure!”  
While they talked some of the smaller goblins were ransacking the weapon pile. One of them begun to unsheathe Orcrist and its dim blue light could be seen, much to the goblins dread.  
“What is this? The Biter! The sword that killed thousands of our kin!” There was no more amusement in the Goblin King’s voice. There was fear, and hatred. “Slash them! Beat them! Kill them!”  
The goblins swarmed around the Company, who was being kicked, punched and hit, to say the least, fighting with their bare hands and the will power that emerges from despair, when a sudden flash of light blinded them all and was gone with an aftershock that sent them all to the floor and to the abyss several goblins, wood planks and rubbish of all kinds. A powerful commanding voice was heard.  
“Fight, you fools!” Gandalf silhouette could be seen close to where the Great Goblin was seated before. “Take your arms and fight!”  
There was no need for a second call to take the arms. Bombur and Bofur, who were closest to the pile, reached for them and managed to throw them up in the air, from where the others deftly grabbed them and followed Gandalf’s advice to fight, as if it was needed.  
Gandalf himself was doing an astoundingly god job both with his staff as with Glamdring. Fluffy Cake King was at loss when he saw it gleaming blue when stabbing his band necks and other vitals.  
“He wields the Foe Hammer! The Beater! Bright as daylight!”  
Trying to hide in his throne did him no good, as he was some hundreds of pounds past the size when it would be barely possible. The wizard and Thorin went for him at the same time and made true Elrond’s words, that no a parsley was worthy to be bet when they both were at wilding that swords. They send him stumbling down the rampart and Gandalf called once more.  
“Run!”  
And run they did, as fast as they could while managing the attacking goblins from every side. Having a band of them coming directly in front of them, Dwalin made loose a handrail and used it as a long spear, swishing from side to side of the path, sending down the pit half a dozen at a time. They were on two wooden paths, one above the other, and on the other Gandalf leaded the row with Thorin at his side. Iris fought hard to stay close to them, because she felt that if she ever was left behind there would be no means to catch up again, but even behind the two mighty swordsmen she had her opportunity to use every bit of technique Fíli had taught her. Absolutely no time to think that those monsters trying to kill them were living things: they were a mistake, at best.  
Lily was wielding her new sword around her with all her might, thankful for the private lessons Thorin’s interest in her provided. Kíli had lost his bow too, and was wielding his sword deftly to avoid the coming arrows from the goblins, until he found a ladder that could be used as a shield and then to pull the creatures in front of them, and then as a bridge. On the company ran, Bombur and Ellen at the rear, when she heard Thorin shout from ahead.  
“Ellen, kill the dummies!”  
She acted with not a glimpse of a thought, out of sole training, having done this so many times back at Imladris’ exhaustive mornings. She took a stronger hold on the hilts, kept the shorter sword in front of her to be used a shield if needed and spun around herself with Lócënehtar outstretched. A heap of goblin dismembered limbs fell on the wooden path along with its owners, while the elf resumed her run behind Bombur in the same movement.  
They succeeded in regrouping at the same level and Thorin commanded them to cut the cords that hold a stretch of bridge; this way they managed to leave a substantial goblin mass behind and have a free way before them. It was much better to run without sticky hands trying to grab them and every kind of weapon trying to find their vitals. The company was on another bridge when to their dismay the Goblin King jumped up in front of them, demolishing part of the bridge and allowing time for his brood to gather up both behind and in front of them. He was angry now.  
“You thought you could escape me?”  
And he smashed the planks in front of him with his ram skull rod and with a second blow made Gandalf almost fall back, which was prevented only by the dwarves’ and Iris support.  
“What are going to do now, wizard?”  
Gandalf’s quick answer was to hit Great Exophthalmos’ eye with his staff, making him stumble back, and a fast blow of Glamdring exposed several inches of his bacon layer. He stumbled forward, recognizing his own end with a knowing look past the wizard.  
“That will do it, _puppy_!”  
Then a little red haired devil ran forward, gaining momentum with her speed, jumped up holding her twin swords crossed in front of her, uncrossing them as she fell down shaving Goblin King’s dewlap and the throat behind it.  
“ _No one_ calls me _puppy_!”  
Then the Fat Factory fell down, breaking the already weakened wooden bridge. Gandalf was almost unable to grab the hobbit-lass trousers before she fell down after her prey, but she steadied herself threading her swords into the wood of the falling bridge. The stretch fell down, broken behind of them too, and they had nowhere to hold on as the wooden structure got down like an awkward roller coaster. Sure it was just minutes, but it felt like a whole life for most of them. They landed fairly close to a trail that brought in a fresh gust of air, but the goblins were coming at a terrible speed to get them. Planks of all kinds and sizes fell on or around them. It could only be Lily’s always optimistic voice that stated just after they landed.  
“It cannot get any worse!”  
Just then the corpse of the Goblin King fell onto them, smashing what was still to be smashed.  
“We must make it to daylight! It is our only chance! Now!”  
Gandalf’s commanding voice brought reason and strength to all of them, who hurried to get out of the wooden planks, get any weapon to be seen and followed Gandalf as quickly as they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, here ends movie-verse, from next chapter on it will be book-verse and a bit movie data that was already released. Hope you enjoy it!


	15. Chapter 15 -  From the frying pan into the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment, and then turned back to the hobbit. He was about to say something when a horrendous howl cut the air. Gandalf was getting tired of yelling the same word.  
> “Run!”

They found the way out and kept running for a while, just to be out of the immediate reach of any bolder goblin who might find courage to dare daylight to avenge their king. As they reached a more level ground, Gandalf, who was in the lead, stopped and started to count the passing ones numbering them on his fingers.  
“Dwalin, Balin, Ellen, Ori, Dori, Nori, Óin, Glóin, Iris, Kíli, Fíli, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Lily, Thorin...” He looked around, searching. “Where is Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?”  
“I saw him drop down and be missed by the goblins when we were pushed along the path.” Nori said.  
“Have you lost him?”  
Gandalf was beside himself out of anger. Thorin, to no one’s surprise, begun to argue with him.  
Iris sat sadly on the ground, leaning onto a tree, covering her face with her hands, crying.  
“He is gone! He is lost! That horrible goblins got him, I’ll never see Bilbo again; I was so angry at him, I hit him, and now he will never know how I’m sorry for it!”  
Fíli crouched in front of Iris, and took one of her hands in his, trying to comfort her.  
“Don’t cry, Little Sister, don’t cry! I am sure Bilbo is fine, believe in me!” He looked up past her, with a big grin. “Actually, _I bet my beard_ he is sound alive, do you hear me?”  
The hobbit-lass looked up at him, felling a hand caressing lightly her hair.  
“Thank you so much, my brother, but you should not, I am sure he is lost.”  
“No, he isn’t!”  
Iris spun around to the voice of the one who was actually caressing her red locks. She stood up and hit him with her fists, shouting.  
“Bilbo! I will kill you!”  
“Bilbo Baggins! I’ve never been so glad to see someone in my life!” Gandalf’s voice faltered.  
“Bilbo! We had given you up!” Kíli was glad to see him, as was Fíli.  
“How did you get past the goblins?”  
“How, indeed?” Voiced darkly the always suspicious Dwalin.  
Bilbo held Iris’ wrists in his hands, laughingly. Gandalf perceived something strange, that would have to be cleared out later, but right then he just tried to settle things.  
“Well, what does it matter? He is back!”  
“It _matters_!” Gloomy Thorin intervened. “I want to know. What are you doing here? Why did you come back?”  
Ellen hushed her own laughter at Thorin’s old and customary phrase. Bilbo held his ground, looking self assured for the first time since she got to know him.  
“I know you doubt me. I know, you always have. You are right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, my own armchair, my garden. There is where _I_ belong. That’s _home. That is_ why I came back, because... you don’t have one. A home. It was _taken_ from you. But I will help you take it back, if I can.”  
Thorin lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment, and then turned back to the hobbit. He was about to say something when a horrendous howl cut the air. Gandalf was getting tired of yelling the same word.  
“ _Run_!”  
And run they did, as fast as they could, hearing the orcs’ shrill cries and the wargs’ growls and howls. They had no packs, only their weapons, what made their load lighter, but even so they were on foot, and the orcs were on wargs, some of the mightiest predators in Middle- Earth. The women had had only a slight glimpse of them before they found, or were found by, the dwarves, and no actual fight with them yet. Albeit not sending out a single word about it, in the goblin den flight there was their first real kill, to all of them, and that jelly demons looked far easier to deal with than the bodybuilding orcs that were chasing them right now.  
Then the Company found itself in a dead end, a deep cliff in front of them, the warg riding orcs behind. They clambered the pine trees as high as they could, Bilbo having trouble with his _letter opener_ stuck in a warg’s skull and was helped to climb up a tree by Lily.  
They were definitely in trouble, the big wargs throwing themselves against the trees, which having grown up too close to the cliff had far too little earth for their roots to grasp upon, and were falling one upon each other in a domino effect. In few minutes fourteen dwarves, two halflings, one elf and one wizard were stuck on the same pine tree, disturbingly close to the edge of the cliff.  
Gandalf put his fire skills at use, igniting a pine cone, which he threw down like a bomb. It fell down among the wargs, making them move away out of fear. The next ones he kindled were passed on to the closest companions, who grasped the idea and used one to lighten another and throw them to the wargs and orcs, enkindling the wargs’ pelt, which made them mad out of pain, rolling themselves on the ground and dropping their orc riders away. The Molotov cocktails was a risky idea, because it would not be long before the fire caught on the pine tree they were on.  
Just when Thorin’s company was rejoycing itself for their success onto the warg/orc party, the tree they were upon began to shake, its roots too shallow to hold their weight. They dangled perilously like a lot of Christmas trees ornaments, the only problem was that the tree was ninety degrees angle from what it should be. But, worse than that, Thorin saw who the orcs’ leader was.  
Dark foreboding came upon Lily. She was hanging on a branch close to Thorin when she saw his jaw shut angrily and he managing to stand up and walk on the pine trunk as if it were a catwalk. She knew they all were inches of being either killed by the orcs or falling into the abyss, so then Thorin had nothing to lose but his chance to finish what he begun years ago. He steadied himself, took a better grip on Orcrist and then walked, fierce, gaining speed at every step, fire in his eyes, hatred in his heart. The pale orc twisted a smile, weighing up his mace. Thorin was running now, the oakenshield of his name held in front of him, his elven sword above his head, ready to strike.  
Azog was in higher ground, and his well trained warg jumped in a way it was easy to him to hit Thorin, albeit his oakenshield, and at the same time keeping away from his sword. The dwarf fell down with the heavy blow, but managed to get himself up again leaning on his shield. The orc was faster than him and dispatched a heavy blow onto his head, which made Thorin fall again, to the Company’s dismay and horror. Then Lily saw what she would forever keep in her mind as one of the most noble and heroic deeds she had ever seen.  
From a branch just bellow the one she was, the hobbit took hold and forced himself up; it was obvious he was not used to tree climbing, as she herself had to help him up first time, but on he went, steadying himself as he could, unsheathing his small blue shining sword, a fierce look in his eyes, and down the pine trunk he went, running, a fury unconcealed.  
Following Bilbo’s improved initiative, the fighters who had any way to dislodge themselves from the pine tree did it, following Bilbo’s lead. Not all of the dwarves were able to do so, through, because some of them didn’t get a good hold on the tree and were perilously dangling from its branches and even one from another, as was the case of Dori and his brothers.  
It was almost only Gandalf who was aware of this issue, because they were clinging solely onto his staff, so he was one who could not do anything to help the others that not what he’d already done, and that he hoped would succeed soon enough.  
Lily scrambled up the branch, only to see Thorin being shaken by Azog’s warg and thrown onto a boulder, Orcrist tinkling on the stone. Fíli, Kíli and Dwalin were already running on the pine trunk when she managed to put herself up and follow them, and she felt by the trunk’s swing that there were more warriors behind her, but the dwarf-lass had no time to look behind. The one she loved was threatened, and she would not let it go on this way.  
That bloody orc Azog commanded went to Thorin, unsheathing his sword as if nothing could bother him, and aimed the dwarf’s throat, taking time and pleasure at it. It surely was his worst fault.  
Out of the blue an avenger jumped over the orc, unbalancing and making him hit the ground. The bloody creature still tried to react but the hobbit’s adrenaline was too much, and Bilbo’s first kill of an actual thinking being was that orc’s only death. Then he kept there, wielding his sword the best he could, which was not really so good at all, but fierce as a badger nonetheless.  
The rest of the Company who was able to do so joined into the fight, as there were not few wargs and orcs it would be no matter of joke. Lily reached Thorin, already unconscious, put one hand quickly to his jugular and another close to his nose to make sure he had minimal vital signs, and then stood up upon his body, the sword he himself made for her in her hands, eyeing wildly around to make sure none would get close to the one she called a king, and of late she was daring to call the one who owned her heart.  
Instinctively, the Company tried to make a circle around their leader, protecting him. To kill Azog would be a pleasure, a prize, but if they only had means to survive him it would be enough. Even so, they came as fierce as Durin would not be ashamed of them. But then, the dwarves and their friends were outnumbered by far, and things were going desperate, mostly to the ones dangling from Gandalf’s staff; Dori’s hands could do no more, and all his might to hold himself and his brothers was not enough, and he fell.  
A loud cry reverberated in the skies, and Dori and his brothers where caught up in the air one by one, resting flabbergasted each one on a mighty eagle’s neck. Enormous eagles they were, match to Misty Mountains heights, and fierce against orc and warg, catching them like mice and throwing them into the abyss. Some others were catching the company members and throwing them on the back of another eagle, and away they flew, just like Dori and his brothers. When a mighty eagle came to catch Thorin, Lily managed to gather his shield, which had fallen beside him, before another eagle came for her.  
It was a tense flight. They knew not where to the eagles were carrying them, nor in what purpose; and Thorin was like a ragdoll in the eagle’s claws, making it impossible to guess if he was dead or alive. Fíli cried out his name when the eagle he shared with his brother flew a little closer, but to no result.  
After what seemed an eternity, they started to fly in circles, lower and lower, until the one carrying Thorin reached the flat top of a large outcrop and gently laid him there. In moments Gandalf was beside him, and then Bilbo, and the others. Gandalf called his name, then made a gesture above his face, muttering something in a strange language. Thorin opened his eyes, much to Gandalf’s relief, and first thing asked about the halfling.  
“It is all right. Bilbo is here, he is quite safe.”  
Willing hands helped Thorin to stand up. His face seemed angry, as usual, when he turned to Bilbo.  
“You! What are you doing here? You’re going to get yourself killed!” He paced slowly towards the confused hobbit. “Did I not say that you would be a burden, that you would not survive in the wild, that you had no place amongst us?” The rest of the company looked at him abashed; how could he be so harsh to one who had put his own life in jeopardy for his sake? “I’ve never been so wrong in all my life!”  
Thorin embraced Bilbo warmly, much to his surprise and joy for feeling, for the very first time, that he was wholly accepted by the leader of the Company. The others cheered, relieved. The mighty dwarf let him go and spoke.  
“I am sorry I doubted you.”  
“No, I doubted me too! I’m not a hero, nor a warrior; not even a burglar.” He glanced up at Gandalf. Then Thorin’s eyes looked far past him, and his face was lightened by a smile. Bilbo looked at the same direction in the horizon.  
“Is that what I think it is?”  
The group walked to the edge of the outcrop, delighted by the sight they waited so long to earn. It was Gandalf’s voice that broke the silence.  
“Erebor!”  
But the word that came out of Thorin’s lips was other.  
“Home!”


	16. Chapter 16 – A Nest to Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do not light a flame that we can not quench.”

They cheered up at the sight of the Lonely Mountain, but then Kíli looked around searching for Ellen, as she was not with the group and he was sure she saw her riding an eagle too. He saw her sitting on the stone ground with her head down, pale, embracing herself by the waist.  
“Ellen!” He ran to her. “What’s wrong?”  
She shook her head.  
“I’ve got an arrow, the leather corselet held most of the damage, but I think I’m bleeding.” She held up her right hand, and it was smeared with blood. He urged her to lay down.  
“How did it happen? I was close to you all the time!”  
As if being at one’s side could create a force shield around them, Ellen thought.  
“The orc archer pointed to your back, then I ran.” She stated, simply.  
“Are you crazy? You could have been killed!”  
“There was no time for anything, too much noise to warn you, I thought I could defend us with my swords as I saw you doing back at the goblins’ den. But it seems the orc arrows fly faster than the goblins’.” She smiled weakly. “It is a little more than a scratch, I deem. The point wasn’t even hooked, it fell down when I touched it.”  
The others came to see what was happening, and Óin looked worried.  
“Sometimes their arrows are poisoned. We must clean this wound as soon as possible. The eagles will come back to carry us down, Gandalf said they are counseling among themselves deciding how far their help will go. Let the blood wash out the wound, it is better to shed some blood than to keep any poison inside of you.”’  
Lily helped to take off the leather corselet as to give her more comfort to breathe and let the wound open to bleed. It was far more than a little scratch, by the way.  
“I’m so sorry, Aunty, my first aid kit was in the backpack, and it was all lost inside the mountain.”  
“I will be fine, but I’m worried about Thorin. What if that bloody warg had the rabies? And his wounds are far more than mine, I deem.”  
“Yes, it worries me, too. Animal bites tend to fester, they must be very neatly cleansed and I should find something that can prevent infection.”  
“And a painkiller, too, for them both.” Complemented Óin.  
Kíli caressed Ellen’s forehead, worried.  
“You are bleeding too much for a wound this size. How are you feeling?”  
She pressed his hand against her face and winced a smile. “Have been better!”  
“Hmm, it cannot be willow bark tea for you, then; it favors bleeding.” Stated the dwarf-lass.  
“Are you a healer, Aunty Lily?” Asked Kíli.  
“ _Aunty_ is your past, your brat!” She knocked his head. “Well, I’m a curious. Father is biologist and loves botany, he prefers to use medicinal plants than allopathic medicines, so we have a lot of them at home, and I learned how to use them.”  
“What is an _allopathic medicine_?”  
Lily laughed and tried to explain.  
“Hmm, salves and potions made with the things the plants and other things have that can cure diseases, but don’t have the whole of the plant in it. I think I can’t explain any better. Me and Óin will see Thorin now, if he lets us.”  
He was in pain, but stubborn enough to want to wait until the eagles took them away from there. It was soon, and they gave them a smooth flight to the feet of the rocks where they had their own nests. There was a stream nearby, where the men got to replenish themselves with water and cleanse as they could. Not all of them had water bags with themselves when the goblin trap opened, but some had, and brought water back to the makeshift camp. The elf was thirsty, and Kíli gave her water in small sips, as Gandalf told him to, cradling her head in his lap. Lily went with Thorin to the stream bank to help him to wash the warg bite, what he refused, grumpy.  
“I can bathe myself, woman.”  
She smiled as she helped him to take off his cloak and hauberk.  
“I’m sure you can, but I want to make sure your wounds are thoroughly clean, you wouldn’t want them to fester.”  
“Why are you smiling?”  
She smiled more.  
“It is the first time you call me woman instead of _kid, child, girl_. I smile because I liked it.” Lily helped him with his tunic, thorn in some places and badly stained with blood. He winced when some of the wounds tore open from the movement. “Bathe yourself while I get some herbs nearby, they I’ll come to wash your wounds.”  
“I’ll whistle for you to know you can come.” He took the tunic from her hand and caressed her hair, kissing her gently. “I may have called you _woman_ , but until the right time comes you will be treated by me as a _maiden_.”  
Lily blushed like a teenager and went away along the margin, thinking when would that _right time_ come. After a bend of the stream she found what she was looking for, a patch of wild iris plants. She dug some roots out and washed them in the stream. Somewhat ahead she cut some willow inner bark, and in her way back collected marigold, ceanothus and wormwood flowers. She was already going back when she heard a low pitched whistle.  
Thorin was seated on a flat stone near the stream bank, wearing only his trousers, barefoot, and his tunic laid washed on the grass beside him to dry out. His hair was damp, and he was running his fingers along them for untangling. Lily put her plants close to his tunic and started to pick the ceanothus flowers from its stems.  
“How do the wounds feel?”  
“I’m trying to ignore them.” He winced when she touched one of the gashes. “But you are not making it any easier.”  
The dwarf-lass rubbed the flowers in her hands along with a little water from the stream until a mild foam developed, then she used it to wash the wounds at his back. She felt him shuddering when she touched the largest of them, where the fangs had got him, thinking that if it weren’t for his hauberk it would have been far worse. She couldn’t help but smell his male scent beyond the light lilac fragrance; she washed the lather away and begun to make more ceanothus foam.  
“So my lily flower is using her sisters to heal me, is it so?”  
She smiled.  
“More than you can imagine! That ones are iris roots, if you want to know.”  
“What will you do with hobbit feet to me?”  
He tried to joke to forget the pain. Lily laughed while rubbing her hands.  
“I’ll smash them into a poultice to keep your wounds from festering. It is not what I’d use if I had my first aid kit with me, but it is the best I’m able for the moment. May I…?”  
She knelt close to his left side with the lather in her hands. He pulled his hair to his back so not to hinder her, and leaned back exposing his chest.  
Along with the gashes there was a lot of angry purple bruises to be seen underneath his chest hair. Lily touched them gently, focusing in to cleanse the wounds with the ceanothus foam, but it was disturbing to run her hands along his well defined muscles and still keep her mind on healing issues. His skin was hot from the sun, and she felt his chest move to his breathing. Her fingers couldn’t help but play with his curly chest hair while she washed away the blood stained lather; then she couldn’t resist any more, her hand reached for his lightly damp hair and her mouth found his. Thorin was responsive, sitting upright to free his hands and caress her shoulders, their breath getting heavier. She caressed his unwounded right side, then he took her hand in his, kissed her palm lightly and spoke with a hoarse voice.  
“Do not light a flame that we can not quench.”  
She looked at him, looking confused.  
“I’m sorry, you must be in pain, I shouldn’t have…”  
He kept her hand in his, holding it tight.  
“Pain is nothing in comparison to my hunger.” His eyes shone dangerously, his breath still heavy. “I swore to myself I would treat you like a damsel until things are settled and the right time comes, because you are a young flower who deserves to be treated the right way; but if you tempt me this way again I will not be responsible for my deeds. “  
Lily blushed.  
“I’m sorry...”  
“Don’t be!” Thorin hurried to say. “But don’t forget I’m not a human _boy_ like the ones you knew back in your world; I’m a dwarf _man_ , and my feeling is strong.” He let her hand go. “Go back to the camp, I’ll follow as soon as I cool down.”  
She kissed him lightly, took her plants and headed to the camp to prepare her potions.

ooo000ooo

“Do we have any kettle to boil some water?”  
Lily asked Bombur, the kitchen lieutenant.  
“Not really, lass. Everything lost in that bloody goblin den.”  
“Any mug, pan, pot, anything?”  
“I fear there’s really nothing. The eagles brought some mutton for us to eat, but we are roasting them, no way of cooking anything.”  
She looked down at the herbs she collected.  
“What a pity. I had to at least steep these plants to get their medicine out.”  
“What do you have there?” Asked Óin. He was happy for having someone in the Company that shared his interest in healing; he was getting old and it would be good to have someone to pass his knowledge on.  
“Some marigold flowers, for washing the wounds, as they are antiseptic and help the wound to heal faster; they would be good both for Thorin and Ellen, and for anyone who has got a wound; willow bark for painkilling; and wormwood flowers for poisoning, as we don’t know if my aunt’s arrow wound was poisoned or not. But the flowers have to be steeped, and the willow bark should be boiled. It doesn’t have to be a big pan, just enough to boil a cup of water.”  
Fíli approached her with a guilty look in his face.  
“Aunty, would a can the size of a tuna can be enough?”  
“Besides _aunty_ is your beard, yes, that would be enough.”  
The blond dwarf put his hand in a pocket and produced an empty tuna can.  
“Then I hope this will help.”  
Lily looked stunned at the perfectly sized tuna can.  
“Where did you get it? And why?”  
Fíli shuffled his feet on the ground.  
“Well, back at the goblin’s porch Iris said that were the last tuna cans forever, and I thought of getting one of them as a memento.” Lily looked startled at him. “Not of the tuna, but of her.” He hurried to explain. “I know this Little Sister of mine will have to go back to her own world, when we find the Gate at Erebor. Not that I, or Kíli, like the idea, but we know this is the most probable thing to happen. We have already been blessed to have a Little Sister for some time, we are grateful, but we will miss her. So I took the tuna can as a keepsake of her.” He shuffled a little more, looking down at his feet. “To have some medicine for Uncle and Ellen is more important than any relic. Take it.”  
The dwarf-lass took the empty tuna can in her hands and bowed low.  
“Thank you, Fíli. I will have to burn its varnish before I steep in the medicine, but after I use it I’ll turn it back to you, be sure.”

ooo000ooo

With Óin’s approval, Lily made the marigold petals infusion and cleansed Thorin and some others’ wounds with it; then she put it to heat again and added the wormwood flowers, to wash the elf’s arrow wound. Her aunt was already getting feverish, but granted she would be fine, that she just was thirsty; the wound bled no more, just oozed out a yellowish water. Bombur helped her to bend a large tree leaf to hold the wormwood infusion that was left to use it later, then she used the same tuna can to boil a willow bark decoction as a painkiller for Thorin.  
The poultice made him feel more comfortable, and he went to sleep after eating some mutton; Ellen had more thirst than hunger and ate little, urged to it by Dwalin’s command of “you must eat properly”, which to him meant to eat meat, and got into an uneasy sleep. Kíli kept at her side, washing the sweat from her face and arms with a wet handkerchief Arwen gave to Bilbo back at Imladris. Both Fundin’s sons were worried about her and went to talk to Gandalf.  
“Will our Little Sister be all right? Her fever is so high, what can be done?”  
The old wizard looked at them and puffed his pipe.  
“Nothing more than Lily and Óin have done and Kíli is already doing. It is no more in our hands. Her body is fighting any poison that might be left, and that is why she is so feverish. “  
Dwalin looked down at his fists, powerless.  
“A fever can kill.”  
“Yes, but this time your sister in an elf. She might die slain in battle, or out of grief, but no illness or poison will take her away from you. She may become weak for some time, tough.”

ooo000ooo

The long corridor was empty, and the electronic timed lights went out as she passed them. The door in front of her had no identification, which was identification enough. She knocked and waited. The door opened by itself, to a spacious carpeted office. The window to her right looked into nothing but another building. An obnoxious artificial palm tree to her left had dust on its leaves. The Human Resources Director sat in his armchair on the other side of the table, his black Armani suit matching his long black hair. She was left standing in front of him.  
“You are fired.” He stated, simply.  
“No, I am not!” She dared. “You cannot fire me, we are in the middle of a project.”  
“The project wasn’t even yours in the beginning, you came in later. Now you will go out of it and it will flow as it should from the start.”  
“But I have people of my own crew working on it...”  
“They will go on without you, they don’t need you.”  
“Thank you for your praise, you know a good leader when things go on smoothly when he is not there to supervise. Then, why are you firing me?”  
Thorin straightened his silken tie and looked directly at her.  
“You hurt yourself badly with no purpose. You put the whole project in jeopardy by your actions.”  
“It was a work accident!”  
“It was self-inflicted damage!” He hit the desk with his fist. “You jumped in front of a co-worker and got hit by the forecasted statistics!”  
“What would you me do, let your own nephew get killed by the weight of the budget? There was no schedule for it, I had to do something at once, else the competitor would eat up his market share!”  
He lowered his voice dangerously.  
“I will hold you responsible for any loss in productivity.”  
“Ask the Total Quality team about me. It is not from me that bankruptcy will come.”  
“Are you still loyal to the Company?”  
“For as long as my work contract goes, and beyond.”  
“I will tell the shareholders.”

ooo000ooo

An extenuated Ellen woke up from her delirium to find herself held by a weary Kíli that caressed her hair and murmured that she would be all right.  
“I had a nightmare.” She said softly to him, her eyes glazing no more. He nodded, but said nothing. “I’m thirsty.”  
“Are you feeling better?” He asked while she drank.  
“I think so. Sleep. I’ll wake you up if I need.”  
“Your fever seems to be over.” He swept the damp handkerchief on her face. “I will be right here at your side, if you allow.”  
“If my brothers don’t mind, it would be like heaven to me.”  
Then she kissed him lightly and curled herself to his chest, to find the rest they could before down.


	17. Chapter 17 – Bear Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you like it as it is?”  
> He looked stern, and she laughed once more.  
> “I like you, even if you were bald as Dwalin and beardless as an elf!”

Next day the Company departed from the eagles, with promises of friendship and reward. Gandalf was to lead them once more, as he knew of someone in the neighborhood who could help.  
“Beorn is very ill-tempered, and doesn’t like strangers at all, but he is good natured, and will be willing to help orcs’ enemies.”  
“Does he live far from here?” It was Iris who voiced the concern. “Some of us should not overdo.” Her sky blue eyes just moved slightly to Thorin’s and Ellen’s direction. She more felt than saw the leader of the Company’s anger at her and made up an excuse. “My legs are short and I ran them out in the goblins’ den, I deem.”  
Gandalf looked down at the hobbit-lass, understanding what was unsaid.  
“We must walk most of the day, but the path is easy and there might be fruit to eat at the forests’ borders; no one will have to exert himself to reach the place we are going to.”  
And it really was a smooth trail, compared to what they’d already traveled before. They had few water skins, but had water courses all along the way; the little leftover meat they had was eaten in the morning meal, but keeping hydrated made it easier to bear hunger; and knowing there would be a somewhat friendly house at the end of the day gave them hope.  
Balin and Dwalin took each one of Ellen’s swords to carry, as she was feeling weak and dizzy; she didn’t want them to, but their determination was stronger than her current ability to resist. She let her brothers help her with the swords, as long as they would not keep her from being supported by Kíli. Most of the time they just walked hand in hand, and she felt herself reassured; but now and then she would stumble out of dizziness and his strong hands were always ready to steady her back to her feet.  
Gandalf was not completely right about the fruits; there were some on the trees, but mostly green, and all that was to be picked were some berries in the bushes, usually not enough for a mouthful, but always shared among all of them.  
Somewhat past the middle of the afternoon they reached a ground with more open spaces, and flowers all over. Big bees buzzed around, really big ones, and a mile or so later there was a green pasture, with ponies grazing at will. A small river could be seen from a distance, and trees, and amidst the trees a wooden building. Gandalf called for a stop under the shadow of the trees.  
“There is Beorn’s house. He is not fond of visiting, so it would not be wise to all of us to trample into his garden at once. I will go in first, with Iris and Ellen; then Thorin, Lily and Bilbo, and then you go in twos, as you wish, but wait five minutes from one pair to another. Remember Beorn is a rough man, so you have to try to be polite, and as he is a skin-changer do not mention any word like fur, pelt and so on. Wait for my signal to enter the house, anyway.”  
The wizard led the two women to the house and they talked a little in the while.  
“Thank you for picking me up first, Gandalf, I’m going dizzy most of the time.”  
“Your body is still recovering from the arrow shot, its poison and your bleeding. Elves recover quickly, but not instantly, and you must have nourishment for it to heal fully. If we find a welcome at Beorn, you will be able to eat properly – and I mean properly for an elf, of course, not the piles of meat Dwalin deems as proper for you – and the day after tomorrow you will be fine, if you take the rest you need and don’t overdo.”  
“I will see that she doesn’t overdo, Gandalf.” Stated Iris. “She always takes care of me and Lily, now it is our turn to take care of her.”  
“I makes me happy to see the tight bond of this family, Lady Iris. Sometimes it is all one has in his life.”  
They reached the wooden gateway escorted by a couple of horses. Some blue eyed grey dogs came to look at them, not aggressive but almost too smart looking. Two of them ran back to the low wooden house.  
“They have gone to warn Beorn of our arrival.”  
When they reached a courtyard formed by the walls of the house, a huge black haired man stood there, wearing only a wool tunic down to his knees and heavy boots. He was obviously been cutting a large tree trunk, and the axe in his hands matched his size and the knotted muscles of his arms and legs. He patted one of the dogs while speaking to him.  
“Hmm, they don’t look dangerous at all, you can go.” He put his axe down and turned to them. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Ellen thought he must be somehow related to Thorin.  
“I am Gandalf.”  
The wizard stated simply.  
“Never heard of him. And these ladies?” He raised one eyebrow.  
“They are Ellen and her niece Iris. They have come from a very faraway land.”  
The women bowed low.  
“It must be a very faraway land indeed to elves and halflings be of the same family.” Beorn’s curiosity was beginning to be stirred. Gandalf went on.  
“I am a wizard. You may have not heard of me, but I’ve heard of you. My cousin Radagast lives near the southern borders of Mirkwood, you may have heard about him.”  
“Hmm, that one. I use to see him now and then, he is not a bad fellow.” He changed his weight from one leg to another. “Now that I know who you claim to be, what are you doing here?”  
“To tell you the truth, we lost all our supplies and almost our lives to the goblins in the mountains.”  
“Goblins, huh? Why did you go mess with them?”  
“It was not really our intention, but they surprised our camp at night and took all our whole Company as prisoners.”  
“First time I hear call one old man and two ladies a ‘company’, but go on.”  
“We were crossing the mountains, coming from the west lands and, well, it is a long story.”  
“This long story may be better told inside the house, if it won’t take the whole day.”  
They entered the large living room, and all inside was wooden craft. Finely carved pillars sustained the roof, and the heavy wooden table itself had animal carvings as its legs. Beorn signaled them to sit down and took a seat at the end of the table. The elf was grateful for sitting down, as she was almost fainting again out there in the sun. Gandalf resumed the story.  
“I was coming along the mountain pass with Ellen and her nieces, thinking that it was though to travel with a pair of hobbits in this inospitous lands, but that the five of us could make it when...”  
“I see only one niece here. What happened to the other one? And you plus a three person family counts four, not five.”  
“Oh, yes, we didn’t want to bother you with a lot of us at once, as you could be busy, but if you allow, I’ll call them.”  
“Go on, call away.”  
Gandalf whistled and in a moment Thorin was there along with Lily and Bilbo. The dwarf bowed low.  
“Thorin Oakenshield, at your service.”  
The others did in a similar way.  
“I don’t need your service, but it seems you need mine. I don’t use to be fond of dwarves, but if you are really Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, and you are enemies of goblins, you may find some help here. By the way, what are you up to? I never heard of dwarves getting along with elves, nor that their women walk abroad in the wild.”  
“They are going to visit the land of their fathers, beyond Mirkwood. The elf and her nieces have business over there also, so they and all those dwarves are traveling together.”  
“Besides the girl I see only one dwarf to be called “all those dwarves”, old wizard, and you already count six instead of five. Where are the others? Killed by the goblins, eaten, lost?”  
“Well, it seems not all of them came when I called, so I’ll whistle again.”  
So he did, and Dori and Ori were there in no time at all. They bowed low and offered their services, to what Beorn just waved his hand.  
“Go on with the tale, or it will be supper time before you end it.”  
“I was delayed and followed them up the mountain. I was sure I was in the right path when I saw the horse and the whole troop of ponies that was lent to us passing me by and going back to where they belong...”  
“Seven is not so a big number to call ponies a troop.”  
“As a matter of fact there were more than seven ponies, as there were more than seven of us plus the elf.”  
He whistled once more and Nori and Bifur came in.  
“All right, never mention service, just your names.”  
So they did and Gandalf went on.  
“I perceived something was wrong when I lost their tracks, and then I found a way in and into the goblins den. When I saw them being beaten by all that goblins, I thought, what can a dozen of us against so many?”  
“Wait, wait, ten is not a dozen, are there more out there?”  
Gandalf whistled again and Óin and Glóin came in, bowing low as Beorn dismissed their services. The wizard went on with the tale until the part in which Iris killed the Great Goblin.  
“Then I thought, this little one did what all of us thirteen weren’t able to...”  
“I would not expect so a little thing to do so a great deed, but also I would not bear with someone calling me _puppy_.” He was really amused. “All right, I imagine there are two more in my courtyard, isn’t it so?”  
Bombur and Bofur came in at another whistle of Gandalf, as Beorn expected. He was already thinking it funny, but was interested in the end of story also. The wizard was telling about when they escaped the den and he discovered Bilbo was missing.  
“Then I thought to myself, it cannot be that we are not all the sixteen of us here!”  
“So, come on, unless wizards count numbers in a different way from other people, fourteen plus two with one missing would be fifteen, not sixteen.”  
Another whistle and Balin and Dwalin came in, in their most respectable manners, just to annoy the dark haired man with their offering of service. He was really interested in the story now, as he knew all that part of the mountains, and was a declared enemy of goblins and other creatures from the Enemy. When Gandalf told him about climbing up the pine trees and firing pine cones at the wargs and orcs, he was pacing around, mumbling to himself that he wished he could be there.  
“And then the last pine cracked, as it could not hold all the weight of us eighteen and...”  
This time Beorn himself whistled, and Fíli and Kíli came in at last.  
“Can we finish this story without anymore interruptions or are there more outside?”  
Gandalf assured him they were all in there and continued the story telling. The big man grunted when told about Thorin’s massive injury and Ellen’s bleeding, noticing the last dwarf to enter went straight to sit beside the elf and took her hand in his. When the wizard reached the last lift the eagles gave them from their nests to close to his own personal stone, the Carrock, the sun was almost setting.  
“If all beggars could tell so a good tale they would find me better mooded than usual. Of course it can be all an invention from your own head, but you deserve supper for this tale-telling nonetheless. Let’s have something to eat.”  
The whole Company thanked him and cheered up, after the long and weary day of stumbling their way to that place.

ooo000ooo

The dinner was mostly based on honey bread, cheese, and fruit, much to the dwarves’ dismay, but to the elf’s delight. The hobbits didn’t care that much about meat, too, and could do fine without it; what uplifted the spirits of all of them was the ale barrel Beorn produced out of a cellar. Their host had his turn of telling stories too, mostly about the forest they would have to transpose to reach Erebor. The dwarves told him stories of treasures and gold, but he didn’t care at all about these things.  
A room apart was set to be the ladies’ to sleep in, and the men would scatter themselves in the main room, where Beorn made straw mattresses to be spread out. He left his guests at ease, but warned them that he would be out all night long and that they should not get out of the house, on their own peril; next day he would be away all the day long, but they could wander around the house at will, even to the river, and that they could fish if they wanted.  
Still the dwarves chatting and singing went on for a long time, as it was the first time since Imladris that they were really lodged and comfortably fed – and drunk, by the way. Even the worst hurt ones, Thorin and Ellen, were at a good mood, and used some time to talk to each other about all kind of stuff. He liked to know more about Lily’s family, and she about Kíli’s background. Of course the younger ones didn’t like that much talking about the little mischief every kid does, but it was really like a normal family reunion, and _normal_ was something the women were missing since they rolled down that cliff. Then Thorin began to sing in his deep baritone voice, Ellen cuddled in Kíli’s lap and fell asleep.

ooo000ooo 

Next day most of the dwarves and specially Bilbo woke up late, Gandalf was nowhere to be seen, and Lily was tending Thorin’s healing wounds, so Ellen and Kíli seized that chance to be alone for a while and wandered to the river bank. He was glad that she felt so better after a whole night of decent sleep after he carried the sleeping elf to her mattress; albeit she was tall, elves’ bones are lightweighed, and he was surprised of how easy it was for him to lift her in his arms. They chatted quietly.  
“I think I will take advantage of your good mood and try to know more about you.”  
“You are the reason of my good mood, so it is your right to take advantage from it, I deem.” He gazed at her with his dark emerald eyes. “What do you want to know?”  
She laughed at his smile, then took courage and asked. “I think it must be a very personal issue, but, why are you so different from the others?”  
“Different, how?”  
“Your style. I know a beard can trouble a bow shot, if the arrow gets tangled in it, but Lily got a way around this, in a very dwarfish way, I think. But you just keep your beard short, even when all others have at least a braid in it, or a longer moustache, like Bofur. Why?”  
“Don’t you like it as it is?”  
He looked stern, and she laughed once more.  
“I like you, even if you were bald as Dwalin and beardless as an elf!”  
“But does it bother you?”  
“No! Here, Kíli, I just wanted to know, women are curious beings, don’t you know? But if you feel better not telling me, no problem, I was just taking advantage of your good mood and I don’t want to change it at all, alright?”  
He looked at her as if thinking if it was really true, then took a deep breath and begun to speak.  
“I had a beard, very similar to my brother’s. Our beard is very slow to grow, you may have noticed.” She nodded, agreeing. “It takes several years to grow a decent beard. You may have heard some of the boys say something like “I’d give my beard for something”, and this something being very meaningful. So, I gave it up.”  
“Why?”  
“I made a promise, a sacrifice.”  
“And…?”  
She was getting really curious. It seemed very important to him. He breathed deep again.  
“Thorin didn’t want me to come on this quest. He thought I was too young, that it was too risky. My mother didn’t want me to come, either. She had lost her father, her brother, her grandfather and her husband, my father, to war. She was afraid she would lose her sons, too. She thought that sending one of them would be enough risk, she lost so much she wanted to keep at least one of us with her, and it would be me, as I am the younger one. But I could not stand this idea, it would be a shame on me if everyone came and I was left behind, hiding behind mommy’s skirts. So, I prayed. I asked Mahal to help me to get chosen for the quest, to be allowed to come. I promised my beard for it.” His eyes were looking far away now, as if looking into the past or his faraway home. “Two days later Uncle and Mother agreed that I would come. I shaved right away, and put my beard on Mahal’s shrine we have at home. Mother was in shock when she saw me beardless, but then she understood how much it was important for me to come in the quest, and blessed my decision and faith.”  
Ellen caressed his short, harsh beard.  
“This is beautiful. I didn’t know dwarves had this kind sacrifice promise to your Vala.”  
“Why wouldn’t we?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, you seem all so secure of yourselves, so proud, it is hard to thing of anyone of you pleading for something.”  
He laughed, with his hand in her hair.  
“You really don’t know much about my kind, do you?”  
“I really don’t.” She got up on her elbow to kiss him gently. “But I’m loving getting to know.” She touched his hair. “And this braidless hair? Is it a promise too?”  
Kíli blushed, then embraced her tightly, hiding his face in her hair.  
“Yes, it is. Or, rather, it was. I don’t know, you have to tell me for sure.”  
“Me? How can I tell you something about your own promise?” She smiled. “What promise was that?”  
“Promise you won’t laugh?”  
“Why would I laugh?”  
He caressed her face and took another deep breath. It was becoming a revelations day, he never opened himself to anyone like that, and this was a little unnerving to him. But, then, it was the right thing to do.  
“Do you know there are very few dwarf women? You could count one for each three or four men. That’s why we consider women so precious, like a jewel. Without them, how can our people grow? I considered this since I was very young. You see, not all dwarf women ever choose a man to marry, sometimes they choose one they cannot have, they never choose during war times, and our people had so many wars along the ages and…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to end up alone. I know most men get along very well without a woman, but I have so a caring mother, so lovely, that I wished to have the joy of having someone like her with me, some day. Someone to brighten my days and ease my nights. Someone to carry on Durin’s line with me. I wished to be chosen someday. So, I promised a sacrifice to Mahal. I promised that I’d never braid my hair until I was chosen.”  
She thought for a while, blinking.  
“But, Kíli, if dwarves take so a pride in their braids, don’t the girls look with favor to whom has a well braided hair?” He nodded, agreeing. “Then, having your hair unbraided wouldn’t make it more difficult for you to be chosen?”  
He nodded again.  
“In a way, yes. But I wanted to be chosen for who I am, not for my braids. I wished for someone who could look through appearance and value me, my thoughts, my crafts and skills; because appearance changes, skin wrinkles, hair falls or turns grey. I didn’t want someone who would look at me when I am old and regret her choice. So, if having no braid makes it more difficult to be chosen, it also makes it easier to be chosen by the right woman. That’s what I thought, then. I don’t regret.”  
They kept in silence for a while, just feeling the fresh air around them and the soft warmth of each other.  
“I shouldn’t be so bold to ask you, but then, will you tell me?”  
“Tell you what?”  
“If my promise is fulfilled.” He cupped her face in his hands and looked at her sternly. “I promised that I would wear no braid in my hair until I got chosen to be one with someone for life. Ellen, daughter of Nyda, is my promise fulfilled?”  
She smiled at him.  
“Don’t you know the answer already?”  
“I believe I know, but I want to hear it from your lips.”  
“No problem, but why? What you know in your heart is not enough?”  
Kíli was serious now.  
“Ellen, I made a very formal plea to Mahal. We have Uncle’s agreement, but we have not yet our betrothal, nor any announcing. I must hear it from your lips. It really matters to me.”  
Her gray blue eyes shone as stars as she silent and gently pulled a thin strand of his hair close to his left temple, divided it in three and braided it tightly. She had nothing to bind it with, but he produced a small silver bead out of the blue and a linen strand, and she tied the braid with them. She took the fresh braid in her palms and said, looking into his eyes.  
“Kíli, son of Dís, daughter of Thráin, I declare, for all purposes, to whom it may concern, that your promise is fulfilled. You have been chosen, I search no more. May Mahal watch over us until the end of our days, and beyond.”  
Ellen kissed the braid in her hands lightly, and then they embraced as if the world would fall apart if they were not in each other’s arms.


	18. Chapter 18 – Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarf-lass shook her head.   
> “For his age, he could almost be your father, Iris!”  
> “And how much older is Thorin from you?” Iris snapped back. “His nephews are older than you, you cannot say anything!”

The Company had a lazy day, eating and resting at will; the river had good patches to swim and take a good bath, and other good patches to fish, and to fish some of them did, granting the meat the dwarves adored so much for their dinner. Gandalf came back just before sunset, as to keep himself out of the trouble of disobeying Beorn’s orders. Although grateful for the day’s rest, they were worried about their real condition at that house, and Thorin questioned Gandalf both about their host and about where he himself had gone all day long.  
“One question at a time, good friend! And I will answer the second one first.”  
The he explained that he had fallowed bear tracks back to the Carrock and that there were more than just one set of paws, meanings there were several bears gathered; beyond that, the tracks lead back to the burned pine trees where they had been hanging some days before, and then he could not go ahead without missing his time to reach back Beorn’s house before dusk.  
“And I think this answers the first question, too.”

ooo000ooo

Next day they were woken up by Beorn himself, friendly and good humored.  
“So, you are all still here, huh? Not eaten by wargs, killed by goblins nor smashed up by big bad bears, huh?” Bilbo looked up at him as if fearing the man could read his troubled thoughts. The huge man turned to Iris, who was somewhat hidden behind Bilbo. “And this little one here is no puppy at all, huh?” He laughed out loud. “Cutting open the Great Goblin’s throat is big people’s task, don’t you think so?”  
Iris went red as her hair to the praise, and they all fallowed their host to the table to have breakfast with him. Beorn was in an extremely good mood, and before they could ask why he was so friendly at them he told them himself.  
“When I saw the burned glade in the pine grove I knew that at least something of what you told me was true. But then I had the luck of finding a wandering orc and what was left of his warg, and I made them sing whatever there was to be sung, if you take my meaning.”  
Beorn filled up his mouth with honey bread and told he found out the goblins and orcs were together in search for the dwarves’ Company and planned to raid everything around in search of them, as soon as they gathered themselves up.  
“Now I know for sure what you told is true, I’m ready to offer you any help that I can. You can take ponies for the small ones and horses for the big ones to reach Mirkwood’s borders, and supplies to feed you for weeks, if you are careful. Large water skins will help you, too.”  
He made clear inside the forest they would have little or no chance of getting water of food, and warned them against a dark watered river almost at the end of their track.  
“Do not drink or bathe in this river, its waters are enchanted and can make you sleep heavily or get into forgetfulness. And never, mind you, _never_ , go out of the path.”  
They started at once to prepare things for them to depart as soon as possible, even if it would take some hours for baking some needed supplies. The women asked him permission to use his kitchen to make a traveling loaf recipe they learned back at Imladris, and he allowed them into his pantry to get whatever they needed.  
“I hope we remember everything Lady Galadriel explained about making that lembas bread she told us about.”  
“It should not be too difficult, once you got half a dozen dwarves to crack the nuts. I liked the ones Beorn has here, they remind me of Brazilian nuts.”  
“Hmm, roasted Brazilian nuts would be perfect!”  
“Then the other stuff is not so hard to get, the oat, honey, flour, butter, things you can find in any kitchen in Middle-Earth.”  
“But the perfect recipe lies only in the golden leaves forest down south!”  
The three laughed among themselves while preparing the dough to receive the nuts Kíli, Fíli, Bombur, Ori, Dori and Nori were cracking and mincing. Albeit they were worried about a possible orc chase and about the menacing forest they had to get through, it would be good to be on horseback again, instead of on their own feet. For ones who rode on horseback first time not quite a moth ago, it was sure a change.  
Beorn gave Kíli and Lily new bows and a quiver of arrows each, even if he believed they would not find anything worthy shooting at all in the forest. But, just in case... Just after midday meal they departed from Beorn, heavyhearted by the dark road they were to take after four of five days from there.

ooo000ooo

The Company rode at a good pace, galloping whenever the terrain was even to gain time, and made it to the forests’ borders in four days. They camped for the night to grant a last good night of sleep before getting into that dark place, and Kíli went with Ellen to gather more wood for the fire to last the night. He had been talking a lot about Dís, maybe out of homesickness, maybe foreseeing what it would be like when they reunited in their retaken home, Erebor.  
“I think I will like to know your mother. When you speak of Dís it is almost as if I already knew her. She reminds me of my mother. She always made me and my brother make the things that had to be done, no matter what. I don’t regret.”  
“I am sure she will like you! She is not too fond of elves, as she is Thorin’s sister, but as you are Little Sister to Balin and Dwalin, she might be more agreeable.”  
“I really hope so! I don’t use to have luck with mothers-in-law.”  
“What do you mean?”  
She didn’t grasp the harshness in his voice.  
“Huh, the mother of ones companion?”  
“I know what a mother-in-law is!” He was angry now. “What do you mean with not having luck with _them_?”  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. ' _Different cultures, don’t forget the difference in cultures!_ ' she reminded herself.  
“Kíli, I mean another life, at another world. Please.”  
“You had a companion, there?”  
Kíli was obviously hurt. She got to explain.  
“Yes, I had someone by my side, long ago. Please remember I was human then, all right? He died long ago, I am alone since then. He...”  
“I don’t want to know about your ‘ _companion_ ’.” He gazed away, panting.  
“Kíli, hear me, I can never more mention this person to you or to anyone, if it is your wish, because I see it hurts you. But I cannot change the past and the things that happened to me, and to my body, if you understand what I mean.”  
He closed his eyes, biting his lips and clenching his hands. She touched his face gently.  
“Kíli, look at me.” He gazed away. “I understand I may be not be what you expected from someone who dares to be at your side; I know your people has uses that... are no more usual, customary, amongst my people. But it does not change what I feel for you, nor does it change who I _am_. You came to me because I am who I am, didn’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I am who I am inside of me, even if I took an elvish shape in your world, and this didn’t stop _you_ from coming to me!”  
“You have... _lain_... with a _man_...”  
Ellen bit her tongue not to say that at least it was not with _another woman_ , and then reasoned on.  
“Now hear me, and you, haven’t you ever kissed someone? Your hands don’t behave like you never caressed a female body, do they?”  
Kíli was caught off guard.  
“No, but, see, it is _completely_ dif...”  
“No, it is _not completely different_! And do you want to know something more?” Now it was _her_ turn to be angry. “Lord Elrond calculates my elf-age at least as about three hundred thirty years old. This means I am more than three hundred years without a single kiss before yours. Can you _tell_ me the same?”  
“Hey, this comparison is not fair!”  
“And comparing _worlds apart_ is fair?”  
“I don’t care about _worlds_ , I care about _you_!” He was still angry.  
“Then, please, care about _me and you_ , and about now and the future, not about the past and some dead person, for Durin’s sake!”  
There was a stunned silence for a while.  
“You asked me ‘for Durin’s sake’?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why?”  
“Kíli, if I am to be one with you, I have to be one with your people; am I or am I not Balin and Dwalin’s Little Sister? Does it mean nothing? If your folk is the people of Durin, it is Durin whom I will count on as forefather, and Mahal as Creator, even if it is elven blood that runs in my veins and Varda whom I hail as my Vali. I may be an elf, and have been human, but I’m trying to be the best dwarf I can.”  
“Are you _really_ doing this for me?”  
“Yes. But sometimes it seems it is not enough.” Her eyes showed her hurt.  
“I...” He felt ashamed for his selfishness and prejudice now, even if things still were _completely different_ in his opinion. “I think my mother will love you when she has a chance to know you.” He said quietly, running his fingers through her hair, touching lightly her pointed ears, then reaching for her face, tracing the line of her jaw with his rough fingertips. “I should not judge you.” She nodded lightly in agreement. “You are here now, my fancy elf, and you have chosen me, and no one else.”  
Kíli hold Ellen tightly and kissed her hungrily, as if to make up for the three hundred years she had been alone.

ooo000ooo

Somewhat after they all finished to eat and to gather their things so as to be ready for an early start in the morning they seated themselves down for their usual smoking and singing pre-sleep hour. Lily found a way to get Iris away from Bilbo, to which she seemed to be glued onto for some time, and tried to have a conversation with her sister.  
“Iris, are you sure of what you are doing? I mean, you seem to be giving too much hope to our hobbit fellow, but, and when we reach Erebor and find the Gate, what then?”  
“Nah, the Gate is a legend, didn’t you hear your precious Thorin say this? Why should I worry? We ain’t going to any world besides the one we are in, believe me.”  
Lily breathed deep.  
“Iris, this is what you want to believe. But the problem is that you are thinking only of yourself and not in Bilbo’s feelings. What will happen when you go back to our world?”  
“And why do you think I must go back when you yourself and Aunt are going to stay? Or do you think I’m blind? I am far too humble, while you are getting yourself a king and Aunt is getting herself a prince, I’m only fancying a simple stay-at-home hobbit, what’s the matter?”  
The dwarf-lass shook her head.  
“For his age, he could almost be your father, Iris!”  
“And how much older is Thorin from you?” Iris snapped back. “His nephews are older than you, you cannot say anything!”  
Lily sighed.  
“You are right, I cannot. But I am already adult, even if young, and back in our world I already have lived by my own decisions, and taking the consequences of them, for some time. I finished highschool, in which you just got in, I’m in uni, I work and live from my own money for years now, and even so I respect Father and answer to him for almost everything. You are still a teenager, you change your opinion as you change your underwear, how can you possibly take so a definitely decision as to stay here forever? Mind you, I _mean_ forever. No turning back. No quenching of homesickness, no way back. Are you sure you are ready for this? It has been a hard decision for me, is it really so light on you or haven’t you really thought about all the consequences?”  
The hobbit-lass kept quiet. It was obvious she didn’t.  
“I... I must think about this.” Iris looked down at her hands. “I’m going to bed. I mean, to the sleeping roll. Good night.”


	19. Chapter 19 - Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hmm, it seems good. Where is the nearest Victoria’s Secret in Middle-Earth?”  
> “The nearest what?”  
> “Just forget it! All I know it that now I have something to bet with you if I wish!”

They followed the song and made their best to be away ere break of day. Although they did know it was expected to happen, they hoped that Gandalf would change his mind and not part from them right then. Although he made sure they would send the ponies back to Beorn along with the horse the elf was riding, he himself didn’t bother to let his own horse go back with them. Thorin was resentful of having to send all the ponies away when they had so a heavy load to carry when Gandalf was keeping the horse Beorn leant to him to his own use.  
“Thorin, my friend, I swore that I would return the horse to him, and so I’ll do, in due time. Now a wizard is in need of haste, and he knows it. Fare you well! Don’t forget to trust Bilbo’s eyes and ears, and more!”  
And so the gray clad man went away, while the Company finished to fill their water skins in the creek close to the forest’s entrance and to repack their supplies proportionally according to each one’s ability.  
“Do you remember, Aunty, the first time we went to a trail with you?”  
The elf laughed.  
“Sure! You complained about the weight of your backpacks from beginning to end, I was almost to swear I’d never take you into a tracking again!”  
“And now here we are.”  
“Yes, here we are.”  
The three women embraced themselves in a tight hug, as if knowing they were about to tread a path that would lead them beyond everything they ever dreamed or dreaded about.  
Mirkwood was no fun at all. As soon as they got under the shadow of its leaves, a sort of “watching and waiting feeling”, and Bilbo put it, got over them. It was utterly dark, almost as if at night, and as they got further in the light at its borders faded as the memory of a dream.  
None of them had the slightest inclination to sing, as they used specially when in troubled times. The heavy backpacks were a case of double approach-rejection, as they were heavy of food, but the food had to be spared as much as they dared, so they would be slow to get lighter from consumption, but when they got lighter it would mean they were going short of food.  
Ellen tried to forget the boring walking calculating how much they would have to walk based on what Gandalf told them about going round the forest instead of crossing it. Lily had had enough geometry classes to be one to discuss the matter with.  
“See, if Gandalf stated to Bilbo that there would be two hundred miles to the north and twice that to the south to get round the forest, and we know by our map that this forest’s shape is almost round at its northern borders, then we have a six hundred miles perimeter semicircle.”  
“Yes, and we have to get through its diameter, which means, twice this imaginary circle radius.”  
“With perimeter being twice .r, then we can change the formula to radius being perimeter divided by twice , right?”  
“Sure! Then we have twice six hundred miles divided by six dot three, to simplify.”  
“All right, less than two hundred miles, then? Can we guess hundred ninety miles, maybe?”  
“Hmm, it seems fair to me. At a rate of twelve or a little more miles per day, we should do it in fifteen or sixteen days, with luck.”  
“What crap are you talking about?”  
The two laughed at each other to Fíli’s angry question.  
“Just making some calculation to waste time, why?”  
“You seem to be talking in an almost completely foreign language.”  
“Hmm, easier than Khuzdul, I bet.”  
“You have nothing to bet, I _know_ you are out of tuna cans!” He teased.  
“Hah, but you don’t know what I found out! Aunty, you neither! Do you still have your wallet?”  
“Hmm, I think so, my driver's license, my credit cards, this kind of stuff I always keep close to my body when on a track like we begun an age ago, so I didn’t lose them in the goblins’ den, they are right here in my waist, but as they had no use I didn’t care to look at them.”  
“Then take your time and take a look, you will be surprised.”  
The elf fumbled at her waist and pulled out a wallet, that now looked more like a leather pouch, then opened it while they all were walking. A thin whistle crossed her lips. Lily was smiling to herself, satisfied for having been to one to find that out. Curious Fíli was at their side and took a look also.  
“Wow, what have you got there?”  
Ellen took some golden pieces out of the wallet to show him and Lily.  
“It seems my whole credit cards limits changed themselves in currency!”  
Lily laughed.  
“I knew you would love to know it! I had just a little money with me, so now I have a little Middle-Earth money, but I didn’t imagine your credit cards would change, too.” She turned to the blond dwarf at her side. “What do you thing it means in terms of the money you use?”  
Ellen handled the pouch to Fíli for him to evaluate it. He weighed it in his hand for a while, looked inside to make sure most of it was gold, and gave it back to the elf.  
“Of course in terms of Erebor’s treasure it is nothing more than a crumb, but in terms of hmm, let’s say, common people living ordinary lives, inside this pouch there is enough to buy, hmm, lots of things.”  
“What amount of “lots”?”  
The elf asked while putting the pouch back to its hidden place at her waist.  
“Not enough to buy a house, but enough to keep a house very well furnished and supplied for a whole year, plus a good steed in your stable.”  
“Hmm, it seems good. Where is the nearest Victoria’s Secret in Middle-Earth?”  
“The nearest _what_?”  
“Just forget it! All I know it that now I _have_ something to bet with you if I wish!”  
And this was the only merry moment in the whole track through Mirkwood. It took not long for them to hate the forest as if it were an evil hearted creature. The days were dark as nights, and the nights were pitch dark. The first night they tried to lighten a fire, but it brought on them moths as big as small birds and perplexed bats, and it became completely impossible to sleep at all. So they gave up fires and just huddled together to keep themselves warm, taking watches in twos so one could look at the other’s back, as if it were possible to see anything at all. Let’s say, anything besides the eyes. There were hundreds of eyes, big eyes, bug eyes, eyes of any sort, eyes in bulk, eyes in wholesale.  
They were rationing the supplies, but they ran low on water far too soon. Walking was a dry work, and Lily and Ellen’s calculations were based on a straight line, or, as it was used to say by the dwarves, “as the raven flies”, and not “as the wolf runs”, which meant a real path with its curves and meanderings. Besides, the honey based loaves made both by Beorn and by the women increased thirst, although Lembas had more nut than honey in it.  
“I don’t understand. Galadriel swore one of her lembas would suffice a whole day’s track. How many did we make?”  
“Ten to each one of us, and there was Beorn’s bread, too, plus honey and dried fruit. Or we are demanding more time than we expected to walk through the forest or we are eating more than we should; but then, the nutritional needs of a dwarf might be different of the ones of an elf; as everybody is going along hungry in the last few days, I deem we are taking more time than expected.”  
“We are all being thirsty, too. I can almost hear the dripping of water, as if there were a river nearby.”  
As a matter of fact, there was a river nearby, but not one they could cherish of finding. It was the dark-watered river Beorn warned them not to drink or swim in. If they were not that distressed by the lack of food, water and light, they would remember he said it was almost at the end of the forest, and would have lightened their hearts. As it was, the river was only a hindrance to deal with. Bilbo and Iris were the ones to get good news out of nothing.  
“The river is not that wide, I deem.”  
“I see something at the other bank.”  
Ellen tried to see, too, but her spirit was downcast for some days already and it was affecting her physical abilities as well as her mind. Darkness was a worst poison to her than whatever was in that orc arrow point. While in her former world, she suffered with seasonal depression, which was settled with mild anti-depressives, some months of the year, but she didn’t ever think about getting that medicine to a one week LARP party close to summer solstice. She went quieter each day that passed, her smiles getting fewer and shorter, her energy decaying. Kíli didn’t know what to do, he feared it could be something related to their last argument before entering the forest, to which she swore to him it was all right, she only lacked light. Some days earlier they talked a while about this issue.

ooo000ooo

“Your nieces have names of flowers, but it is you who withers out of lack of sunlight, like a delicate flower.”  
Kíli’s hand traced her arm, bringing her close to him as much as he dared.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so weak.”  
“It is no weakness to be who you are.” He remained silent for some moments, holding her to his chest, trying to protect her from the chill of the night. “What does it mean?”  
“What?”  
“The name of who you are. What does ‘Ellen’ mean? You see, I know usually people name their children on what is meaningful to them; me and my brother have names based in what our father worked.”  
“You said he died in battle, he was a warrior, then. What do your names mean?”  
Kíli cast his eyes down, looking to his hands.  
“He was a warrior as every dwarf has to be a warrior in this age of sorrow, unfortunately. But it was not his main work. He was a whitesmith.”  
Ellen thought for a little.  
“An artisan who makes metal things?”  
“Yes. Not a blacksmith, who forges weapons, like Uncle. So, our names are related to his work.”  
“And what do they mean?”  
The dark haired dwarf laughed to himself.  
“Fíli means a rasp, a lime. And my name means a wedge, a planer.”  
The elf smiled.  
“It suits. Really.”  
“And your name? What is an ‘Ellen’?”  
The elf gathered her Middle-Earth and former world memories, what she still had of them.  
“If I think my name as an elf, ‘Elen’ means _star_ , as it was the first word the first elves said when they woke up at the borders of Cuiviénen lake. It also means ‘look!’ in the old language, for the same reason.”  
“You are sure one to be looked at.” He whispered, and the cheeky smile she guessed from the tone of his voice made her day.  
“You are just too kind...” He nuzzled her neck, taking advantage of the surrounding darkness.  
“And in your own language, what does your name mean? Why was it chosen for you?”  
“Hmm, not everyone worries about the real meaning of a child’s name, back at my old world; people use to choose names out of family tradition, community use, or simply liking to the sound of a name. I don’t know what was the reason for my name to be chosen, or for my brother’s name to be chosen, by the way. But I know their meanings, at least.”  
“And what would they be, if you allow me to know it?”  
“Well, my brother’s name is Wolfram, which means ‘tungsten’; I think it was chosen for him to be as resilient as this metal is.” Ellen lowered her eyes for a moment. “Our parents knew that he would need to be resilient, I think.”  
He nodded, thinking what his brother-in-law story might be, but not wanting to bother her already depressed beloved one.  
“Sometimes our names mention a kind of metal or of stone; even being born out of the circles of Arda, your brother’s name suits Khazad uses and traditions.” He was quiet for a moment. “I would like to know your brother personally; he must be a great comrade. And what might my ‘Ellen’ mean?”  
The surrounding darkness enclosed her into his protecting arms as she whispered so as not to trouble anyone’s rest.  
“I’ve heard it means something like ‘a torch in the darkness’. I’m sorry I feel so much more in need of a torch than in condition to be a torch to anyone, right now.”  
Kíli tightened his embrace, having at least the chill of the night as an excuse.  
“You have already lightened up far more than you can imagine, believe me.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “Now you sleep. You claim you are all right, but I deem you are not quite recovered from your bleeding.”  
“You overprotect me.”  
“I am sure I’m not doing anything different from what you yourself would be doing to me if our places were exchanged.”  
  
ooo000ooo  
  
Now she strove to see the other bank through the dim light and could not make more of it than Bilbo and Iris, although it was more than the dwarves were able to.  
“Might it be a boat of some kind?”  
“Yes, so it seems. If we only could pull it...”  
“Does anybody have a hook? We could throw it with a rope attached and pull the boat.”  
They had not much equipment, since most of it was lost in the goblin den, but someone produced a hook Beorn provided along with other tools. Dwalin tried to land it into the boat, but what he had in strength he lacked in precision, moreover because he didn’t know where to aim to. Fíli had the better sight among the dwarves and was the one to land it true.  
The dwarves pulled the rope, but the boat was really tied up to the river bank, and came just to half of the way. Then they pulled harder and the rope that tied it snapped, making the boat come fast to their bank.  
“We have no oars, what will we do?”  
“Kíli, tie the rope to an arrow and shoot it to the other bank.” Thorin distributed orders. “Fíli, tie the rope to that post so we have a handrail.” It was all that remained from an old bridge that should be there. “The boat is small, we will make it in twos, to be safer. I’ll go first with the halflings.”  
And so they did. Kíli had to shoot trice until the arrow fixed itself firm into a tree trunk, and then they started the crossing. It was torture to be so close to water and not to dare to take a sip of it, but there was nothing to be done. They jumped out of the boat and Thorin tied the rope tightly to the post as Fíli had done on the other side, while the others pulled the boat back. Dori and Ori came next, and Ori tied the rope to its prow while the silver haired dwarf pulled them along the rope handrail.  
Things seemed to be going fair until the last pair was about to come. They were in the middle of the river when a roar of hooves was heard, and a small herd of deer came trampling in the path, almost knocking the Company down. Lily tried to shoot at one of them, but if she got it was impossible to see, for it jumped over the river like all others. Then they heard a desperate cry coming from the river bank.  
“Help me! Bombur has fallen into the river!”


	20. Chapter 20 – An Unexpected Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can talk to me about _lying_ anytime you wish, although I myself have no much experience in this matter. But you can count on me to _lie with you_ anytime you wish.”  
> “Remind me to kill you after we get out of this forest.”  
> “I may remind you. But maybe I’m just _lying_.”

When the deer begun to jump over the river, the brothers were still able to pull themselves to the bank, but the last, the one Lily shot, got wild and jumped somewhat to the side of the path, Bombur got scared and unbalanced himself. Bofur was unable to steady himself and his brother, and almost fell into the river too. Thankfully the red bearded dwarf was close to the bank, and it was, in a relative way, easy to fish him out. He didn’t drown, as all his fat made him float, but was sound asleep when they managed to get him on dry ground.  
“What will we do now?” Was Bofur’s desperate cry. “Wake up, brother, wake up!” He shook Bombur, slapped him lightly in the face, to no result.  
“It is all my fault! If I hadn’t shot that deer it would not jump so queer and unbalanced you both!”  
Lily was almost crying out of guilt.  
“Why did you shot in first place?”  
Thorin was not gentle at her, worried as he was and with another problem to deal with now.  
“I am sorry, Thorin, I was just hungry! I thought there was so much meat we would all have a decent meal, I didn’t want to do anything wrong!”  
She closed her eyes, but no tear fell from them, as they were all dehydrated so far. He shook his head, trying to recompose himself.  
“You meant good, but we must think clearly! Do not waste any more arrows unless I tell you so.” She nodded. He turned back to the Company. “What is done, is done. We must take turns carrying Bombur, none of us will ever be left behind.”  
And saying so he himself took Bombur’s left arm and signaled to Fíli and Kíli to help him and Bofur.  
If the track through Mirkwood had been disgusting up to this time, from then on it became terrible. Thirst, hunger, worry, and now a heavy load. The carriers changed places once and then, but no one was in state to hold on for long. Thorin ordered a stop when the little light they had began to fade. They should at least rest, as there was no more water nor food, and in the complete darkness of night they could stumble out of the track, and then be lost forever. Lily was gloomy, out of hunger and guilt, when Iris came close to her.  
“Hey, sis, cheer up.”  
“How can I possibly cheer up, Iris? Thorin is still mad at me, Bombur is still fast asleep, and we are all still hungry.”  
“Sure. So, time for dessert.”  
“What?”  
“Dessert! Where did you hide the chocolate? Chocolate always cheers you up, maybe it works for the others too.”  
“Mahal, I forgot the chocolate!”  
Lily took off her cloak and unsewed its liner open with her switchblade. Iris thought it was funny how Lily was using Khuzdul words like if she were born talking it. “When Aunty told me to hide it, I thought that if it were easy to get I would fall in temptation and eat them before the right time. If there is one right time for chocolate, it is now!”  
The dwarf-lass took out handfuls of chocolate bars. Lily was an assumed chocoholic and had bought chocolate to last her and her family the whole LARP camping with a good safety margin. She and her sister took them and began to hand them out to everyone.  
“What is this?” Asked suspicious Dwalin.  
“Emergency food. Not enough to quench hunger, but it will give us strength to endure a little more.” Lily handled the last two bars to Bofur and spoke quietly to him. “Keep one for when your brother wakes up.”  
“Thank you. And,” He touched the back of her hand with his fingers. “I know it was not your fault, lady Lily.”  
She lowered her eyes.  
“I’m sorry just the same. I hope he wakes up soon.”  
“We all do.”  
The young dwarf woman was tired and seated herself beside Bofur, munching on her chocolate without tasting it at all. Thorin was not exactly avoiding her but after the scolding when Bombur fell into the river he went into a _silence attack_ mode into which she dared not to reach.  
“I know it is customary, but you don’t need to address me _lady_ , Bofur. We are friends for how long? Months, already? It seems a lifetime, though. You don’t have to be so formal.”  
He chuckled.  
“It is not simple formality, lassie. You know, amongst our people we say that in any relationship the one who can, orders, and the one who has good sense, obeys. Since I’m in the Company of Thorin Oakenshield I found out I have very much good sense.”  
Lily laughed.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Everybody has seen the beautiful work on your scabbard. Thorin would not allow his own knot to be wrought on the scabbard of someone less than deserving respectful addressing from his followers. So, I have the good sense to address you _lady_ once in a while, when I think it is fitting, because it shows respect not only to you, but also to our king.”  
She felt herself blush. Dwarven culture was complex, and she was having glimpses of it that made her feel... loved.  
“So, if I understood it right, you call me _lady_ because Thorin believes me fit to be at his side?”  
“No.” Bofur shook his head, smiling. “Me and the lads call you _lady_ because we _agree_ with Thorin in this matter. And, if ever we knew someone able to stand his temper, this one is you.”  
Lily went silent for a while, thinking. Bofur was a good friend, and almost as mischievous as the small band that aggregated her family, Bilbo and Thorin’s nephews. But he was older than the boys, and knew Thorin longer.  
“He is so angry at me. I’m afraid to get close to him right now.”  
Bofur tapped her shoulder, reassuringly.  
“You forget he uses to be angry to the ones he cares for.”  
This statement lightened her heart. She took a deep breath in, and made up her mind, remembering the first time they sat together to talk, back at Imladris.  
“Thank you Bofur, for your advice. I’ll go to him. If he is willing to talk, I’ll be there to talk. If he wants to be silent, I’ll be there to share the silence. He has been alone too many years to be left on his own when he is so worried.”  
The dwarf with the funny hat smiled to himself as the once stranger walked carefully in the deepening darkness until she stood close to Thorin. Then he lent Lily a hand to help her to sit down, and brought her close to him. No word was exchanged, but Bofur could see the shoulders of his king relaxing as the young dwarf-lass deft hands massaged his knotted muscles. Yes, for an old pony, the best medicine was some newly sprung grass...

ooo000ooo

Iris went with her own chocolate bar to sit beside Bilbo, who was on watch, leaning on a tree trunk a bit removed from the huddled Company. Not that it was possible to see anything at all in the surrounding darkness, but at least they could be warned if any strange _sound_ approached. If Iris were able to stop chatting, of course.  
“... and then Kayla and Fran, who were so sure that they would respectively apply for physiotherapy and occupational therapy college, came from the vocational guidance with their options changed one for the other. I don’t understand, sometimes I think psychologists are crazier than regular people but smart enough to get money from others making them believe they are crazy. What do you think?”  
Bilbo was so surprised when the monologue stopped he almost didn’t find what to say. But if he weren’t of the smart kind he would not have escaped the Goblins’ den.  
“I think I don’t understand half of what you say...”  
The girl opened her mouth as if to answer but he put his finger on it.  
“... and that most of the other half doesn’t make much sense...” He quickly took her fist in his other hand to avoid being hit by her again, and smiled. “... but I love the sound of your voice and the way your words flow like the waters of a brook on a stony path; and I love the way your eyes follow the stories you tell, and the way your lips stay slightly open when you finish what you are saying. I could kiss you every time I see your lips inviting me this way.”  
Iris blushed in the dark.  
“It is not fair, Bilbo, you’re kidding me, making poetry out of a clumsy girl!”  
He stroked her hair, playing with the curls that fell down to her shoulders, and kissed her chocolate tasting lips.  
“You wield two swords more deftly than I can handle just one and _you_ claim to be the clumsy one?”  
She punched him lightly again.  
“You know what I mean. I can spend a whole day chatting non-stop, but you are the one who picks up the right words to make me shiver under the sun.”  
Bilbo traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips and felt her skin was cold, and remembered the hours in private they had in Beorn’s gardens. He didn’t remember anything special he had said then, but remembered with a grin how her blue eyes matching the color of the sky closed under her long eyelashes when he begun a game of kissing all of her but her lips. It was true, he made her shiver under the sun.  
“It is not summer now, and you are almost shivering. Come here, if you are to share this watch with me, then let me warm you a bit.”  
He sat Iris between his legs and held her close to him, with the excuse of warming her, which she didn’t dispute. It was pitch-dark time again, and he moved her hair aside so he could whisper in the girl’s ear without disturbing the sleeping Company.  
“I still don’t quite believe you were human before, but if this is true, I must warn you that our people must be especially aware about hypothermia, because of our small frame. Tell me when you feel warmer.”  
The hobbit gently rubbed her arms and tangled his legs around hers. He pulled his cloak so to cover her from the neck down, and Iris felt almost cocooned in his warmth.  
“What more do I have to learn?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“What must I know to live in the Shire with you? I’m sure there is no college to learn to be a hobbit!”  
He chuckled quietly.  
“You are young. There will be plenty of time before your coming of age to learn everything you need, and anything you want to learn.”  
“What do you mean with plenty of time? I’m just two years from coming to age, I was almost providing my driver's license!”  
Bilbo held her tighter, suppressing his chuckles.  
“My crazy Iris, you are twenty-five, and we hobbits come of age at thirty-three. It makes eight years, not two!”  
“What? I’ll have to wait _all_ this time?”  
“Yes, we have to, Iris. The price of falling in love with so a young shield-maiden is to wait for the proper time to come, I’m already settled for this. I could not possibly marry a girl before her coming of age.”  
Iris’ heart skipped a beat. She stammered, confused.  
“What... what did you say?”  
“I said...” And Bilbo reached closer to her pointed ear to whisper closer. “...that I have to wait until you come of age to marry you.”  
She swallowed hard. Iris was having much fun with Bilbo, and she felt he really made her feel different from any boyfriend she knew in her former world. But she was still _thinking_ in terms of her former world, and to live together was completely different from _being married_ , or at least so it was in her teenager point of view. Her aunt _lived together_ with someone for several years before he died in that stupid snowboard accident, and none ever questioned their decision on not having a wedding. To Iris and her generation, not being married meant that a couple was together out of free will, not out of duty.  
“You... you want to _marry me_ when I come of age?”  
There was a disquieting silence, and then deep sigh from Bilbo.  
“No.”  
Iris turned around in his embrace trying in vain to find a way to punch him, but he was holding her tight this time.  
“I want to _marry you_ as soon as we feel Hobbiton earth under our feet. I want to call you _my fiancée_ as soon as we reach Brandywine bridge. I want a priest to bless us before we leave Buckland, and _another_ priest to bless us _again_ when we reach Tuckborough; and I want an astounding wedding party when we reach home, at Bag-End. I’ll have my neighbor Hamfast Gamgee to provide the most pretty flowers to dress your hair, and Buganvilia Cotton to make you a wedding gown, and The Green Dragon Inn staff to provide an astounding fest where there will rain drink and snow food all around Bag-End. And I want all this to happen as soon as possible, even if I have to lie your age.”  
The red haired hobbit-lass felt her entire body shiver, and it was not out of cold. From everything Bilbo said, there was so much she wanted, and so much she feared, that she felt completely confused. Occidental twentieth-first century culture was too strong in her building, but Bilbo and Middle-Earth life-style enveloped her and Iris felt she was more _comfortable_ , and _wanted_ , like she never felt back home. She knew she was too young to marry, but then...  
“Would you really _lie my age_ to marry me?”  
Bilbo teased her, answering with another question, biting her ear lobe very gently.  
“Would _you_ lie to marry me?”  
For the first time in many years, Iris didn’t know what to answer. Maybe because it was the first time she was really in company of someone non-teenager that took her for whom she was, not for whom one expected her to be.  
“I don’t think I would do it alone. I mean, to lie. But, if you lied too...”  
He was completely amused by her confusion and the wordplay.  
“If you would not be at ease to lie alone, we could lie together.”  
She slapped his arm, amusing him even more.  
“Bilbo! You are silly!”  
“Maybe, but I’m willing to lie with you any time you wish.”  
It was not fair. _She_ used to be the silly being who teased others with second meaning words. However, Bilbo had stuck her, and she didn’t complain.  
“I... can we talk about _lies_ at another time?” She stressed the word so as to make it clear what she meant. Bilbo caressed her face so that she leaned onto him, a young halfling-lass confused to finally finding someone she could not dare, and loving it. He kissed her hair and held her closer, smilingly.  
“You can talk to me about _lying_ anytime you wish, although I myself have no much experience in this matter. But you can count on me to _lie with you_ anytime you wish.”  
“Remind me to kill you after we get out of this forest.”  
“I may remind you. But maybe I’m just _lying_.”

ooo000ooo

For some days they dragged themselves along the trail, taking turns to carry Bombur. Sometimes he mumbled in his dreams, but nothing made him really wake up. The lack of water was parching their lips and their moods. It was getting colder, too. Every tiresome Bombur carrying day left them more exhausted than the previous, and in the third day it began to rain, cold and depressing. If they had anyway of gathering the rain to drink it, it would be a blessing, but it was too scarcely more than a drizzle, just enough to wet them and make them feel worse, as if possible.  
Next day Bombur finally woke up, much to everyone’s relief, until he found out there was no food at all and begun to complain. When Thorin was about to regret his decision of not leaving anyone behind, Bofur remembered the extra chocolate bar Lily had given him, which made his brother happy but the whole Company watering mouths remembering their own chocolate bars, gone for days already.  
It was quite well after nightfall, that they now called pitchfall, when Bilbo was on watch along with Iris and they thought they saw something and called on Thorin.  
“What is it?”  
“Over there, I thing I saw some kind of light.”  
“Yes, and I think I heard something, too.” Completed Iris.  
“This is elvish land, it can be dangerous.”  
“No more dangerous than to starve to death, I deem.”  
Desperate from hunger as they were, the chance of finding someone who could help them in the forest made any caution vanish. Hearing the hobbits talk to their leader made everyone shake oneself awake in hope that something might happen. It was solely out of hunger that Thorin agreed that they should try for the fires.  
“All right, we go all together when I say “three”. Are you ready?”  
They mumbled agreements.  
“Three!”  
They dashed for where the fires seemed to be, and they went off at once. There was a mess of dwarves and colleagues trying to gather themselves on the forest for a while, which they succeed to a measure, and then run for another fire light they saw in the distance. This one was their utter mistake, if there could be any worse mistake than to get out of the path in first place. The lights went out like first time, and they scattered. Bilbo soon found out his left arm and both legs were wrapped in a kind of a strong sticky string, which fortunately he was able to cut through with his elvish blade. Not only this, but he more felt than saw a very big spider who was most probably the owner of the sticky strings; as it turned its back to him to heed a noise in the clearing close to them, he stuck his blade deep in its entrails, making the thing crump on its own eight legs.  
“Want to see mister Balin call it _letter opener_ again!” He thought to himself.  
Sensing it was sure to be more trouble ahead than none, the hobbit quickly put on the ring he found back in the Misty Mountains cavern of the goblins. He didn’t talk about it to them yet, but there was nothing else he could think to do that could give him an advantage on the spiders.  
In the strange state he became when using the ring, he could figure out some image of things, even if not clearly, but better than without it in the darkness. He headed for the clearing to where the dead spider was looking at. It was disturbing.  
Fifteen bundles hung from huge spider webs on the trees, one of them quite small close to a long one.  
“Iris and Ellen!” Bilbo thought.  
The other thirteen were of almost the same size, although one of them bulged in the middle.  
“And that one must be Bombur!”  
There were several spiders, some poking the bundles, some weaving more webs, but anyway they looked too much interested in them to notice an invisible hobbit at all. He threw a stone to one who was about to poke Bombur again, and it fell to the ground, making the other spiders sound as if laughing at it, but eyeing around to see where from did that unexpected stone fly.  
Bilbo begun to throw more stones and make noise on purpose, to attract them out of the clearing, which they did, but at the same time weaving more webs to catch the intruder. When the hobbit had them well distracted and at a good distance from the clearing, he got into a perfect _hobbit silent mode_ , which means no sound at all, really, and made his fastest way back to where his friends were, thanking goodness for the coming of dawn.  
It was only in time to kill a fat spider that was left to guard the prisoners and was poking on poor old Bombur as they seemed to like him best.  
“If you like to bite, let’s see how you like if I _sting_ you!” He mumbled to himself as he pushed his blade deep into the spider’s belly. And then he thought _Sting _was a suited name for his once called _letter opener___.  
His next step was to free his friends, and by the blond moustache braid that showed out of one of the bundles he chose Fíli first. It was hard cutting through the treads trying not to drop the dwarf into the ground, but he managed it quite well. Once free, it was a matter of moments for him to take his vambrace knife and start to help Bilbo. Soon they all were free, but the spiders were coming back really angry. But now it was not pitch dark, the Company was aware of them, and already armed, and the fight was fair.  
Even so, the spiders were too many, and the Company was getting tired, as they were already weak from thirst and hunger and from carrying Bombur. Then they heard a bustle in the bushes and three seemingly young humans came running to aid them, all of them wearing ankle long dark mantles and, to the women’s surprise, white collar shirts and red and golden _ties_. The dark haired boy used round glasses and seemed to be their leader, albeit they seemed to be all about the same age, and shouted to the Company.  
“You run away from here, we will distract the Acromantulas!”  
The only girl among the newcomers took a small wand from out of her mantle and waved it up in the air while shouting.  
“ _Arania Exumai_!” To which she was followed by the redhaired boy and the one with glasses. The Company eyed them wide as the spiders fell to the ground either stunned or death, and then run away, with no spare time even to thank them accordingly.  
Hopefully, as they headed away from the spiders’ attack, they got into a patch where some burned spots could be seen, and the light was less dim, even a little greener, and the air was cleaner. It took them no much effort to figure out it was one of the elves’ feasting places they had stumbled into the night before, or one similar to that. The spiders didn’t get close to that elvish magic, and Lily thought what kind of repellent might there be.  
When they found out the spiders would not go into the elven patch, they decided to stay there and rest as they could. They had no idea of how to find the path, and had a lot of questions to ask to Bilbo.  
After he told his story fully since he was lost of them in the goblins’ den, finding the ring, finding Gollum, playing riddles and meeting them out of the mountains, the women were already tired, as it sounded like a story they knew already; as a matter of fact, they _knew_ it already, but had it blocked in their minds; once it was told, the memory was free again, to the point where it was told, nothing more. But the dwarves kept asking him questions over and over again, to the point where the three women just leaned one to each other and dozed out in their weariness.  
Seemingly, the rest of the Company got tired too, and in the elves patch they found their first hours of sound sleep in days. Perhaps for having fallen asleep sooner; or for Iris being so small it took only one spider bite to make her pass out and then they bit her no more; perhaps for Ellen being elf and so faster to deal with poisoning; or for Lily being in love and used to have Thorin’s warmth at her side and it was not there; the fact was that they three woke up at the same moment and with the same question in their lips:  
“Where is Thorin?”


	21. Chapter 21 – In Dungeons Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You resemble the king, your father, but your eyes are your mother’s.”  
> “Yes, but how do you know?” He asked, startled. “And who told you he is my father?”  
> ‘ _It is the genetics, stupid!_ ’ She thought, but said instead. “It is written in your eyes for one who knows how to read them.”

Actually, Thorin had been away since their first attempt to get help from whoever had fires on. Obviously, they were Wood-elves, whose king was Thranduil, Thorin’s disaffection. As soon as he stepped on the elven circle, he fell down to sleep and they grabbed, bound and carried him away.  
Once inside the stone palace and throne halls, the elven spell was taken off from him and he woke up to one of his worst nightmares: to be faced to Thranduil and not having an axe handy to solve old quarries.  
Albeit Thranduil and his people were elves, which meant one of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, the peoples who never accepted Morgoth’s or Sauron’s domination, they were of the elven people who never knew Valinor, the Blessed Realm; they were more dangerous and less wise, as Thranduil’s decision when Erebor was first attacked showed clearly. If Thorin’s stating that _‘you can never trust an elf’_ had to be meant to one person specifically, it was right when meant to Thranduil.  
Not that he was evil to his own people; he just was greedy for wealth, with a weakness for white stones and silver. The lands he used to claim as his realm, and that thousands years history agreed to it, were wealthy in special woods and woodland herbs, but once they were in silver and gold; yet, centuries of mining depleted it. If he was to keep his way of life, he would have to increase his hoard, and his own land didn’t offer the means to reach the level he wanted. So, for long years already, Thranduil was thinking about Erebor’s treasure, that none of its heirs was to be heard about, but that there was a dragon he was completely scared off of even thinking about doing something against it.  
Now, having Thorin as prisoner in his halls was an opportunity to make a bargain and grant himself some of the treasure, without having to deal personally with the dragon.  
“Thorin Oakenshield. It has been a long time.”  
“Not long enough.” Was the only answer.  
“Now, why did you and your folk attack my people at their merrymaking?”  
“We did not attack them, we came to beg, because we were starving.”  
To have him conceding that he and his people were begging to an elf was something Thorin’s grandfather would be double back somersaulting in his grave if he knew it.  
“Where are they now?”  
“Most probably, starving in the forest.”  
“What were you doing in the forest?”  
“Looking for food and water, because we were starving.”  
“Why did you come into the forest at all?”  
And to this the dwarf shut his mouth and said nothing more.  
“So be it.”  
Thranduil turned to a slender elf woman, dark haired and dressed up with a little more discreteness as the other guards.  
“Tauriel, take our _guest_ to appropriate _rooms_ until he feels willing to talk. We have no hurry.”  
And so Thorin was taken by the elf woman and some more guards to a very deep cave dungeon, with a strong wooden door, striped off of his hauberk, vambraces and any kind of stuff that not his simplest garments and boots (fortunately his grandfather’s map and key where well hidden in his underwear). His weapons had been taken away right when they got him there in the forest. But they gave him food and plenty of water, which at the moment was vital.  
After he ate and drunk and thanked Mahal for it, he begun to wonder where his Company was and what they were doing. He thought about his nephews, those valiant brats; his wise counselor and mighty warlord, Balin and Dwalin; untrained but good willing Ori, his clever brother Nori and their oldest brother, patient and perfectionist Dori; orderly Óin, creative Glóin; distraught but utterly reliable warfarer Bifur, his cousins, all embracing Bombur and all settling Bofur; always surprising Bilbo; and the unthinkable female triplet, Iris, Ellen and his Lily flower.  
He remembered how the elf introduced themselves first time, and wondered why, and to what one each name would fit, but with no success. Since they became part of the Company, each one had shown her own measure of loyalty, honor and willing heart. Only then it startled him that those were the virtues he mentioned to Balin, back at Bag End, that he valued above any other in the members of his Company. Probably Balin was right. It was serendipity, not chance. How, if not out of serendipity, could he have found out there in the wild the lady who filled his heart with joy and eased his mind from his burdens? And now he knew not where she was, or anyone of his loyal Company. So it was that, after years uncounted, proud Thorin Oakenshield knelt to the ground, spread his bare hands on the floor, touched the stone with his forehead, and prayed.

ooo000ooo

When the women sent out alarm that Thorin was not there, the dwarves and Bilbo woke up and started to speak all at once. It was almost getting pitch dark again, as they slept only when finally got at a place safe from the spiders and had to recover from the poisonous bites they got. But their leader not being there was an emergency, and they decided to try to find the path even not having any idea of where it might be. Obviously, they got lost at once, and they first attempt to head to the elves’ fires was enough for them to be made prisoners.  
The elves tied and counted them, who were too weak, hungry and tired to even think about protesting. Bilbo was not among them, for he had put on his ring and disappeared as soon as he saw the firelights. The dwarves, the red haired hobbit and the elf with them were blindfolded and made to go into the forest at a steady pace.  
They heard the sound of water and then felt it was an enclosed place, like a cave, but fresh aired and clean of dust. The company walked a lot more until the air around them gave a sense of wider space than before, and they were halted.  
By order of the king they were unfolded, and seeing elves all around her and having been warned against Thranduil, Ellen put a plan to work at once. As soon as she got a sight of the red leaves and berries crowned king, she put her tied hands in front of her breast and made her best to be convincing.  
“Thanks to Varda you saved me! This band of accursed dwarves kidnapped me and made me their prisoner, only the Valar know to what evil purpose, and you made me free!”  
Some of the dwarves begun to mumble a protest, but Iris and Lily managed to glance warnings at most of them and Kíli and Fíli kicked some others.  
“She was armed as all of them, o Thranduil king!” Spoke out a dark-red haired elf woman that later they would come to know as Tauriel.  
“They let me use my swords because I could protect them from the spiders with them, and anyway what could I myself alone do against this lot?”  
The king signaled to Tauriel.  
“Let her speak.” Then he turned again to Ellen. “Who are you, where are you from and where did they rob you?”  
“I am Ellen, from out of the circles of Arda.”  
She knew she could not lie completely at him or it would be perceived, although he didn’t have the mind reading ability Galadriel had, only something that she sensed as probing her mind; so she put it in a way that was true but didn’t quite explain anything.  
“They made me prisoner east from Imladris.”  
That was when Thorin accepted her relationship with Kíli, so then she was really a prisoner to her commitment vows.  
Thranduil put a finger tip on his lower lip and pondered.  
“What were you doing there?”  
“I am sorry to say, but Ólorin sent me on a secret mission and I am under a spell from Elrond, my memory is blurred of anything that can jeopardy it; even if I _could_ tell you I would not be _able_ to at all.”  
This was the worst half-truth in all her life, and she knew it, but having mentioned the Valie that was the star maker as Varda instead of Elentári, and Ólorin instead of Mithrandir, had shown she was used to very old lore, and that would have to be checked out too. As she was seemingly willing to talk, that could come later, Thranduil thought, dismissing her to one of the guards and then he begun to question the company, to no good. Ellen still shot a glance and a small wink at Kíli, who was looking at her when she passed by.  
The blond elf guided her to rooms that weren’t exactly what she expected from dungeons, but where she would be guarded anyway until the elven king was over with her. Some food and fresh water were brought, but she was not left alone.  
“Help yourself?”  
Ellen asked the blond, who thanked her.  
“No, thanks. I’m here just to make you some company. It must have been a though time with that bunch of dwarves.”  
“You cannot imagine how, sir…”  
She would bet her beard, if she had one, that he would try to get more information from her if he could. And she would do the same with him, of course. It would be fun if the safety of her friends were not at stake.  
“Legolas, at your service.”  
“Ah!” She remembered some hints about him. “The Greenleaf, is it right?”  
“Yes.” He smiled. “May I ask from where you know my name, Lady Ellen?”  
She closed her eyes and some neutral movie scenes came to her mind. She shook her head.  
“You just would not believe if I told you.”  
“Yes, I would!”  
He was of the curious sort.  
“No, you would not!”  
And she shook her head again, biting a bread slice. She remembered he was good natured, and although son of the king there was a slight chance she could, maybe, get his help, if she only got him to trust her. But how?  
“You resemble the king, your father, but your eyes are your mother’s.”  
“Yes, but how do you know?” He asked, startled. “And who told you he is my father?”  
‘ _It is the genetics, stupid_!’ She thought, but said instead. “It is written in your eyes for one who knows how to read them.”  
“You must have learnt very strange things where you came from. Is it true you are out of the circles of Arda?”  
“If it were not true, wouldn’t you father already know it?”  
Legolas stood her stare, and his look was pure.  
“He would.”  
“So, I guess you can trust my words, it seems.”  
“Seemingly.” He agreed.  
‘ _Good_.’ Ellen thought. ‘ _Now all I have to do is to measure my words and turn him into an ally. My Human Resources Director would be proud of me._ ’

ooo000ooo

After Ellen got out of the throne halls, the king questioned the dwarves and the hobbit-lass, to no result. Thranduil thought they would be softer than their leader, but they proved to be at least as stubborn as him. Even from Iris the king got a measure of anger, as she put her chin up and faced him.  
“If people go lost in your realm because your roads are really, really bad, and get attacked by your eight-legged pets, is that _our_ fault?”  
As the elves hated the spiders and had no mercy at them, accusing Thranduil of having that awful creatures as pets was the worst mistake the halfling girl could have done. It was the password for all of them to be sent to the dungeons at once, and to be treated like Thorin had been the day before, but not before being scolded by the elven-king.  
“It is a crime to wander in my kingdom without permission, halfling. And after you having attacked my people in the forest and risen the spiders, all this disturbance allows me to demand to know who you are and why are you wandering in my realm. Some time in prison may teach you better manners and loosen your tongues.”

ooo000ooo

For the first days, Bilbo felt miserable, hiding in the corners, afraid of being found even with his ring on, almost not daring to sleep for fear of being caught. He ate and drank what he found unguarded, and roamed about the palace trying to find out what could be done to free his friends. The doors were enchanted, he found out quickly, not allowing a direct approach to the issue. Feeling more burglar than he ever thought he would feel in his life, he begun to systematically map the palace and to follow every hint he heard that could help him to find the Company and release them.  
It was not long until Bilbo found where Ellen was _hosted_ , although with a bit more freedom than the others, but it was only because the king believed that she, being an elf, would rather turn to him or his son and vent out what she knew about the dwarves quest.  
One evening the elf of the Company took a bath and was preparing herself to eat her dinner alone when the hobbit appeared out of the blue, taking his ring off.  
“What are you doing here?” She asked, scared for the sudden appearance.  
“You are really getting into the family uses, ain’t you? What about a ‘ _Good evening, mister Baggins, how have you fared_?’ Or something like this?”  
She took a deep breath and agreed, nodding, then knelt and hugged him, happy to see him sound and safe.  
“Sorry, Bilbo, you just scared me, really. Take a seat, eat something. I’ve had plenty of food, I don’t know how you are managing.”  
He did as she said and answered simply, his mouth full of bread and cheese.  
“Stealing.”  
By the amount of food she saw him put into his mouth she thought he was getting into dwarves’ manners, too.  
“I came in when they brought you your dinner. I’m sorry to say I’ll have to stay for the night, as they will not unlock the door until tomorrow, as I know you noticed by the amount of times you tried to open it at night.”  
He wolfed down a chicken leg.  
“I hope you don’t mind, because there was no other way we could talk without having that blond one around you.”  
Bilbo munched on an apple pie slice.  
“And before you worry, they will not come along this corridor for the next couple of hours, so we can talk with no care at all.”  
“Great!” She ate two lettuce leaves and some tomato slices. “What did you find out already? How are the others? Do you have news from Thorin?”  
The hobbit counted on his fingers as he answered.  
“Little, fine, and no, to make it short, but as we have time I’ll give you a full report, as you use to say. What have you found out already?”  
“First, that the elven king is a square-toed loggerhead who believes the world turns around himself, so we cannot count on him to come to reason and free us; second, that his son is of another alloy than him, so in Legolas we may find help, we just must find out how to make him disrupt with his father enough to help us without putting his own status at risk, because he is too much linked to tradition to detach from his father and his own people, there is no way he would do it. I perceive he has a kind of soreness towards Thranduil, I could not figure out why; if we can discover it, it could be the key for us to handle him to our aid. Third, if I get no news from Kíli soon, I’ll go crazy.”  
She finished numbering the items on her fingers and reached for a hidden bottle under her bed. “Legolas smuggled me some wine, may I pour you some? I hope you don’t mind to share the cup, I have only one here at my humble lodgings.”  
The hobbit laughed.  
“I believe I’m learning to mind only what is really meaningful; after you get through days without food and then more days with no means to communicate with the ones who you care for, sharing a cup is just a detail.”  
She filled the cup with wine and handled it to him.  
“And the Company? My nieces, the boys, Kíli, how are they, what has been done to them?”  
He took the cup and sipped a small draught.  
“They are being fed and lodged almost like you are, just their cells are simpler and they have no kind elf to cicerone them out of where they are, but then they don’t have someone asking them questions all day long, which can be utterly disturbing for most people; I, personally, don’t know how you handle it.”  
Ellen laughed quietly.  
“You didn’t have the bosses I had.” Bilbo handled her the wine cup and she took a sip. “And Kíli?”  
“I’ll answer you at once because if you go as pressing as him I’ll find a way to get out of this room trough the key hole if needed.”  
She weaved one hand and held her own forehead with the other, which Bilbo took as a good omen.  
“He misses you and asks about you first thing when I go close to him. He’s doing fine in every other way, rest assured.”  
She poured more wine in it and handled the cup back to Bilbo.  
“And the girls?”  
“Two or three answers in one. Iris is doing fine as the rest of the Company, everyday the chief of the guard goes question them and no one tells her nothing; lady Lily cries a lot when she thinks there is no one around, but otherwise she is fine too. The prisoners are scattered at different levels of the palace, so none can talk to another; I must really be focused on what is important, else I’d be relegated as an errand boy by them. I guess there can be something weird happening because I heard a guard telling to another that ‘ _they are as stubborn as their leader_ ’, and, how can they possibly state this if Thorin is not here? It is just a matter of finding him, I deem.”  
“Bilbo, you are Booleanly right!”  
“I am _what_?”  
“It doesn’t matter. You are right, Thorin must be here. You must find him, he must know we are all alive and at his service.”  
“Yes, and then we must find a way out of here.”  
“For this I count on you, you are the only really free to wander in the palace.”  
He nodded.  
“I have most of it mapped right here.” And he tapped a finger to his head. “But there are still some tunnels to scan.”  
Ellen finished the wine and put the cup down on the small table and hid the empty bottle under the bed.  
“See if you find out where from came this, they don’t grow vineyards here, the wine must come from somewhere.”  
“Obvious, but what does it matter?”  
“A path that is good enough to be used to cart goods will be good enough for us to walk away from here.”  
“And spider-less, I hope.”


	22. Chapter 22 – A Way Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you want to talk to me now, Legolas? Why not half a season ago?”  
> Her voice was biter, and trembled lightly. To her surprise, he smiled.  
> “Because I am stupid!”

Legolas had been assigned to accompany Ellen wherever she wanted to go to; she could be called a guest, and she was not in closed dungeons like her friends, but there was no real freedom. So, she decided to use her time along the blond elf to gather information and weave her nets to turn the tide.  
The elves of Mirkwood didn’t all dwell underground. The stone halls were living for Thranduil and some others, a place to keep his hoard, dungeons, pantries, cellars, guardrooms and so on; but most of the elves lived in wood houses in the open, mostly built on the trees. So, Ellen was able to get the amount of sunlight she needed to get over her seasonal depression. Besides their houses, they had watch platforms built very high, so they could see far. To one of them Legolas guided Ellen that afternoon to see the setting sun and chat for a while. They had done so sometimes already, and she thought he was becoming more confident in her, so, it was time for another step forward.  
“Why is your father keeping the dwarves in prison?”  
“They have not said what they are about. Maybe, if you could tell something...”  
“No, I cannot. They only spoke in that ugly language of them when minding their own business. “  
“What a pity.”  
“But I deem it strange. They were only walking through the forest to reach the other side, why has he to treat them like if they were doing something evil?”  
“It looks like you are in their defense. Were you not a prisoner of them?”  
“Yes, sure. But if I had to choose someone to arrest me, I’d rather have the dwarves.”  
The son of the king felt insulted.  
“Why? Are you saying my father is worse than a dwarf?”  
“Don’t be angry at me, my friend! I can only talk about what I see, but what I see I cannot deny.”  
“What do you mean?”  
She numbered in her fingers.  
“The dwarves never tied my hands or blindfolded me; they didn’t take my weapons away; they shared their food with me to the very last crumble; when I got an orc arrow stuck in my side their healer treated me with what means she had. They kidnapped me because they have a purpose for me, even if I don’t know what this purpose might be. And what has you father done to the dwarves? They were sent to prison only because they were begging food, out of dire need. It doesn’t seem fair for me.”  
The blond one was silent, pondering what she said.  
“But they are perilous. Father guesses they might stir the dragon that lies in Erebor and that they kidnapped you because of your sword’s name. To stir Smaug could be dangerous even for us. It is better to leave it to itself.”  
She looked at him as if he were completely crazy.  
“What? You are telling me there is a living dragon so close that he could reach your home and burn it down to ashes and your king is doing _nothing_ about it?”  
“It was the dwarven hoard that attracted Smaug, why should we fight it, put our lives in jeopardy?”  
“Hmm, it looks like a pretty stupid way of thinking, in my opinion.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Legolas was visibly annoyed.  
“Tell me, where have those beasty spiders come from? When has Greenwood turned into Mirkwood?”  
“Why are you asking this?”  
“If someone had done something about the spiders when they started to appear, there would not be as many as they are by now. I am sure they came not out of the blue, there must be some dark power behind this, even if it is far from here. Whoever stirred the spiders can stir de dragon too. If someone addressed this dark power before, the spiders would not come close as they are. But then someone might have thought that spiders were not _his_ problem, and now they are at _your_ door. If you don’t address the dragon because it was not you who brought it close, you can end up with it at your door just the same.” Ellen embraced her knees close to her chest. “Would you not prefer to live in a brighter place?”  
Legolas lowered his eyes. That stranger was saying things he himself used to think about sometimes, but muttered.  
“It is beyond our power.”  
“To defeat Sauron was beyond the power of both elves and men in the past, but Gil Galad and Elendil did it nonetheless. With a lot of help, of course. No one does great deeds without a bunch of allies.”  
The blond elf looked down at his hands, gloomy.  
“Gil Galad was a great elf, from beyond the sea. We are twilight elves, we have not seen the Trees. We are not... as mighty.”  
“Don’t deem yourself unable of doing great deeds, Legolas.” She put a hand on his shoulder and begun to talk like a bloody Human Resources Manager. “I am sure you are completely capable of doing whatever is needed to achieve a set goal.” Then Ellen set the bait. “I would not leave my own forest to be called Mirkwood if I where you. I’d try to do something.”  
“But what can I do? Father backs off, he says it is not our business, that if we didn’t set this into motion then it is not our place to do something as long as our borders are safe.”  
“And are they? Tell me, if that dragon you told about came here today and burned your home, how could your people flee into the forest if it is full of spiders? You have no safe borders at all with those spiders around. If a dragon really can came flying and attacked you, what would it be of your people?”  
“Once again, lady Ellen, what do you think I can do about it? I cannot possibly go openly against my father’s orders, I cannot go out of the realm without his consent, what could I do to help this dragon to be killed?”  
The strange elf felt her chance at hand and took it.  
“May I give you some ideas?”  
“Sure!”

ooo000ooo

Bilbo followed Ellen’s idea and sought for the wine. He already knew where the main pantry was, but the barrels that crowded it there were full of assorted kinds of food, from flour to apples and from butter to honey, but no wine at all. Anyway, it was clear that not only the wine came from abroad, but some of that food also. The hobbit put a small piece of cheese under his cloak and the last apples of a barrel in his pocket and waited.  
He was almost dozing off when he heard steps close to the pantry door. Immediately Bilbo stood up and hid himself behind a stack of potatoes, because even invisible he casted a dim shadow if light got directly on him, and surely whoever came to the pantry would have a torch with him.  
It was a kitchen helper Bilbo had seen before, a dark haired and somewhat short for an elf one, as if she were not full grown yet. She lit the torch close to the door with the one hanging on the corridor wall and came in, a basket in her hand, and headed straight to the empty apple barrel. Although he understood very little of elvish, and the elvish they spoke in Mirkwood was a bit different from the one he heard back in Imladris, he was sure she cursed whoever left the barrel empty and didn’t take it away. Then she rummaged for another apple barrel, took its lid off, filled her basket with apples and left the basket in the corridor close to the door. She shook her head, cursed again and went for the empty barrel, half pushing half spinning it until it was out of the pantry. Once there, the barrel was tumbled on his side and made to roll down the corridor by the elf, who followed it to control its turns at the meanders of the tunnels.  
Bilbo got out of his hiding place as soon as the girl tumbled the barrel and went right after her in the barrel tunnel down chase, holding his cloak side tight to him not to lose the cheese. He didn’t quite understand the palace went so deep under the hill it was carved into, but then he didn’t know the lay of the land, and that the door they came in was almost at the top of the hill, some storeys above the level the river settled after getting into the mountain close to the front door and cascading down inside the living rock.  
To this lowest level the elf girl took the barrel, and stored it along with a lot of other barrels of many sizes. The hobbit heard the sound of water and saw a section of the floor made out of wood instead of stone. That would be a place to study in his search for a way out, but right now Bilbo had to follow the elf back to the upper levels if he didn’t want to get lost in the new found corridors.  
The way up was slower, to his relief, but he was cursing the absence of a handkerchief to dry his forehead when the elf stopped.  
“Helo, Tauriel, what brings you here so low?”  
She embraced the guard captain that was coming down the corridor and took a step back. Bilbo was glad that the elves used to talk in Westron most of the time, on behalf of dealing with men.  
“That stubborn dwarf, as always, Finglas. He doesn’t say a single useful word but Thranduil wants me to question him every day. I’m becoming really tired of this dwarf bunch.”  
Bilbo held his breath. None of the Company was so low in the palace, it could only be Thorin. He listened to the elves talking, as Finglas laughed quietly.  
“Tired of the dwarves or tired of being captain? I don’t see you happy since your rise.”  
“How can I be, sister? Legolas looks at me with hatred since then. And I don’t know why, he knew I wanted it so much.”  
“Then, why don’t you quit?”  
“And dare Thranduil’s anger? No, little one, I’m not that insane yet. I prefer to believe I still can reach him, somehow, someday.” Tauriel heaved a sight and embraced her sister again. “I must go now, I have to question the dwarf and report _nothing_ to the king again.”  
Bilbo followed Tauriel now, planning to find out the exact place where Thorin was held. He just was in doubt if he should follow Tauriel when she left or to talk to Thorin at once at the risk of losing himself in the tunnels. He guessed rightly that if Thorin knew he was there and hadn’t given a life sign he would find a way to escape just to kill him with his bare hands, if needed.  
Those weeks in captivity and worry about his followers had taken its toll on the bold dwarf. The others at least knew the whole of the Company was there, only Thorin missing, which was very hard on them too, specially on his nephews and Lily, but knowing Bilbo was free and looking for a way for them to escape gave them hope. Thorin had nothing, didn’t even know if they were dead or alive, and blamed himself for having put them into danger. He was feeling so wretched and miserable he almost considered telling the truth to the elven-king and make a deal to get his help to find his friends and family. Almost.  
Some minutes after Tauriel left the cell Bilbo popped out of nothing, taking his ring off and putting it away in his pocket, making Thorin choke with the water he was drinking. He was not present when the hobbit told the story of finding the ring in the caverns of the goblins and was in doubt if he was seeing a ghost, a delirium or an answer to his prayers.  
It proved to be the last alternative, as he found out while Bilbo told him the whole story since he fell into the elven party, munching on the spicy cheese the hobbit shared with him.  
“Mister Invisible Baggins, please send word to the Company to strive and not tell anything to the elven-king.” Bilbo noticed the use of the word _please_ , which was uncommon in Thorin’s lips. “Not yet, not while there is still hope of escaping in a way you will find out, my friend.”  
Bilbo shook his head, unbelieving what he heard. Was it a bit of _confidence_ , and the word _friend_? If he knew prison would change Thorin so much, he’d managed to jail him sooner.  
“I am working in the shadows and Ellen in the open. She has access to the palace while in company of Thranduil’s son, and you know how good she is with words, so she is trying to get help from the enemy himself.”  
“It must be conceded that she wields words even better than swords, but isn’t that risky?”  
“I asked her the same, and she said simply that _to live is risky_. I don’t believe she will say a single word to put our quest or anyone of us at risk, even if it costs her own life. You remember the arrow shot she got at the fight with the orcs?”  
“I remember she was hurt, but then I was hit by Azog and munched by a warg myself, I really didn’t pay much attention.”  
“Iris told me it was aimed at Kíli, the elf shielded his back with her own body.”  
Thorin closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head.  
“This journey seems to be made for me to learn people can be far different from what one judges at first look.”  
“Or for people to find out what they are able to do and didn’t know before.”

ooo000ooo

Next day Bilbo escaped Thorin’s cell when the morning meal was served, and then was busy running along the palace to take word to every member of the Company about their leader, much to everyone’s relief. Lily was hard to keep quiet, she was almost hysterical from happiness. All of them swore to keep the silence they already were keeping and sent word of being at their king’s service.  
He left Ellen to be the last one, so he could roam a little more in the palace to study their escape choices, then stole a salami morsel, a bread and a big bunch of grapes from the pantry before following the guard who would take her the dinner. Sleeping in her room had proven more comfortable and safe than out in the palace, where he had not even a pillow to ease his head and worried all the time about being found; the other cells were smaller, and usually there was more than one guard around when the meals were served, so it was riskier to enter the cell without being bumped on. It didn’t keep him from squeezing himself into Iris’ cell, eventually, although Ellen had warned him that if he dared to abuse her trust in him and in her niece she would impale him in her _Locënehtar_ sword and serve him to Smaug with an apple stuck in his mouth.  
Ellen opened the bathroom door and found her visitor already visible, setting the table with his contribution for dinner. He felt a little guilty for having eaten almost all of her food the other night and wanted to settle things, even if she didn’t complain.  
“Hello, Bilbo, how’re doing?”  
“Good evening, lady Ellen!” He answered, smiling. “Much better than two nights ago, you can be sure. And I have excellent news.”  
“Wow, you brought fruit! I’m really in your debt now, my friend!”  
“Well, I thought it would be too selfish to steal only for me, and...”  
“Don’t worry, you don’t owe me any explanations, dear. Now tell me your news and I’ll share mine.”  
So they did while munching their meal, exchanging their news and trying to make out what should be the next step. Ellen would try to find out what was it about Tauriel and Legolas, while Bilbo would try to find out more about the barrel storehouse down the palace.  
“I’m making up Legolas’ mind to help us, though I hope he still believes I was kidnapped because of my sword. He may be willing, as long as he is not obviously connected to our escape, he must save face. He told me there will be a big feast some days from here, it may give the elves enough amusement and noise to cover up our moves if we manage to find a way out. But what worries me most is how we will open the cells. Any idea?”  
“Hmm, not yet. And I’m sorry to say the door is enchanted, it closes right behind any elf that goes through it and only opens with a voiced command, and they change it everyday. There must be another way out. They would not store the empty barrels in the lowest level only to take them back all the way up again to freight them away. I must find out why.”

ooo000ooo

Tauriel was coming up once again from the lowest level of the palace, bored of having the same answers everyday. What was he doing in the forest? _Starving_. Why had he got into the forest? _To starve_. What would he do after getting out of the forest? _To starve no more_. And any change in the questions only made the answers change slightly the ways to conjugate the verb _to starve_. But she herself starved for other things than food or information, as her sister reminded her not long ago. She starved for dark star shining eyes laughing at her, for blond silken hair touching her skin as strong long fingered hands caressed her body, for hot lips that put her skin on fire and… And it was no more.  
She had been so happy about her rise to captain of the guard that she went in shock when she saw his angry eyes on her, his lips closed to a thin line and his back turning to her, without explanation. She never got a chance to talk to him, but she was sure he was angry because he wanted himself to be raised to captain instead of her. But would this be reason to get so mad at her? It was not fair. She trained so hard, she worked so hard to have her talent recognized, he _knew_ she was better than him, he even made jokes about it… before. It has been weeks ago, but felt like years. But she had to keep her mind steady on her job, else she would lose her newly gained status and have neither captainship nor the one she loved.  
Her downcast eyes caught a glimpse of a movement and her short sword was in her hand before she could figure out who it was.  
“Tauriel, please… put your sword down. I want to talk to you.”  
His voice was sweet as she used to know, his eyes pleading, but her mind swirled, confused.  
“Why do you want to talk to me now, Legolas? Why not half a season ago?”  
Her voice was biter, and trembled lightly. To her surprise, he smiled.  
“Because I am stupid!”  
She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious.  
“And did you find it out all by yourself or somebody told you?”  
He rolled his eyes from one side to the other.  
“Actually, somebody told me, but it doesn’t change the statement.” Legolas opened his arms, but didn’t dare to get closer to her while her sword was unsheathed. “Tauriel, I am here to beg for your forgiveness, because I want to talk to you and I am stupid.”  
“Why should I forgive you if you judged and condemned me for a crime I have no idea what is and gave me no chance to plead for myself?”  
“Because I am stupid and…”  
“If you repeat one more time you are stupid I’ll…”  
“…I love you.”  
“You _what_?”  
“Sweet forest lady, shall you please put your sword down and give me a chance to redeem myself?”  
Tauriel looked at the sword as if she had forgotten it was in her hands. Then she sheathed it and looked up at him.  
“I’m on duty. Find me at home after the turn changes. Then you will tell me _why_ I should forgive you.”

ooo000ooo

“And so, Bilbo, we find out that lack of communication is one of the worst problems of our age.”  
“Plus assuming things by only one point of view.”  
“Sure!”  
“I had a slight idea the king has something twisted, but not that he used to seduce his vassals.” The hobbit drank some of the wine he himself brought to Ellen’s cell that evening. “Hmm, this is strong, but good!”  
“Legolas told me there would be coming a Dorwinion wine soon, for the autumn feast, I understood it is stronger than ordinary wine.”  
She took a sip of the wine, too; although being a red wine, it reminded her of a Portuguese white port wine, deceivingly sweet but alcoholically strong.  
“Back to the subject, that is why Legolas’ mother went away to the West, she could no more take on Thranduil’s behavior. Then, when he rose Tauriel to captain, after she said she would do _anything_ to achieve that post, Legolas’ first thought was that she was seduced by him and rewarded with the captainship, not that she was raised for sheer competence.”  
“And as she thought he was jealous for her being risen instead of her, what a mess must it all have been in their minds!”  
“But then there is a little lack of logic here; why would Legolas be jealous or envying her raise? He doesn’t need to be captain, he is already son of the king.”  
“Perhaps she thinks of him more as a brother in arms than as a prince.”  
“If being a prince is to act like his father, I understand why he would prefer to act as a simple soldier.”  
They stood silent for a while, digesting the news they exchanged about their supposed allies. Then the elf remembered.  
“Hey, Bilbo, and what about the barrels? Did you find out where do they go to?”  
The hobbit opened his eyes in a wide startled gaze.  
“Goodness, Ellen, I think I may have found our way out of here!”

ooo000ooo

It was close to nightfall, some days after, when Ellen was conduced back to her rooms by an exceptionally well-disposed Legolas, who excused himself with an inconspicuous wink of his eye and spoke so to baffle the guard who would lock her door.  
“I’m sorry we cannot finish our conversation about the influence of the brown shoes on the growth of grass tonight, but I’m supposed to be next to my father for the first half of the autumn party.”  
“Have a nice feast, my friend! We may continue the subject at another time.”  
“I will provide that some autumn fruits are sent for your dinner.”  
And so they departed with the plan fully made up and working, and now she had the data about the expected time of the flight. As it would be a whole-night party, and Legolas would have to be there for its first half, they would be escaping sometime after midnight. Making her best to keep anxiety down, she took a bath, put on a night gown, as she used to everyday, and waited for her dinner brushing her hair, so the kitchen maid who would bring her food along with a guard would not perceive anything different from usual.  
As soon as she ended her meal, Ellen changed her borrowed clothes to her old battered jeans and tracking boots, and the gray blue shirt Arwen gave her and that she used almost every day since parting from Imladris (“It matches your eyes”, the noble elf said then.), and cursed that her crude leather corselet must have been stored along with the rest of the Company’s plundered stuff. Then she braided her hair to make sure it would be out of the way, and laid down to rest while she could.  
Not that she was able to rest at all, as her mind was racing more than an Indy car while her body kept motionless and comfortable. That was probably their only chance to make it out of Thranduil’s halls so to reach the Lonely Mountain in time for Durin’s Day and find the Back Door. She was there when Elrond read the moon runes, she knew it was really necessary for the quest. And, above anything, she would finally meet Kíli again after weeks of parting, and she starved for him more than they starved for food in the forest. Of course they used Bilbo to send reassuring and calming messages one to another, but she lacked his physical presence, the warmth of his skin, the smell of his body, but above all she lacked his quick wit, his humor, his understanding of things beyond what would be reasonable for his dwarven age. Ellen guessed that being around older people, even when hearing their conversation was not suited for him and his brother (of course they heard behind closed doors what the older ones chatted, since it was not approved), made Kíli evolve some qualities and understanding of things that were not expected of him, whom everyone but his brother and his uncle regarded as a footloose. Her niece Iris found out too that those brothers were more than meets the eye, and Ellen understood back at Imladris, in the heat of the forge, why. There are some things, and some people, that are what they are regardless of age, and Kíli was one of these people.  
So the hours passed while Ellen daydreamed about her beloved one and about the upcoming challenges, and at the same time concentrating her power of will for the next overcoming events. She woke up to the unobtrusive sound of the door being unlocked.


	23. Chapter 23 – Barrel Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bless my beard, Fíli, how do you think Durin’s heirs are made? Out of the stone? They’ll have to do _something sometime_ if we are to have nephews, if you know what I mean.”  
> “You don’t have a beard to be blessed!”

“I think this wine is taking more on me than I would expect, Father.”  
Thranduil tapped his sons’ thigh, much to Legolas disgust, and smiled knowingly.  
“Dear son, don’t drink ale like water, don’t drink wine like ale, and don’t drink Dorwinion wine like ordinary wine. You should know it already.”  
“Sure, Father.” He smiled back, reaching for a peach in a tray close by, his alibi being set. “I’m going to walk around a bit, to clear my head off the wine, see people…”  
“As you wish, youngling. The role tradition expects from you at this party is already fulfilled. Go enjoy yourself with your friends.”  
And so, dismissing his son like if he were a kid wanting to play with his comrades, Thranduil set in motion the events that would culminate in the loss of his dungeon’s security reputation.

ooo000ooo

“Hurry!” Said Tauriel is a hushed voice to Ellen, who jumped up from her bed in half a second. “Bilbo is freeing the others, you go with me to take your weapons.”  
“Are you sure it will be safe? I would not like to stay a minute more than needed, you’re putting yourself in danger.”  
The captain of the guard glanced back at her while they ran down the tunnels as silently as they could.  
“They are close to the cellars, it will not take more time than for the hobbit unlocking the dwarves. They are a heavy load, we must find a barrel big enough to keep it from sinking.”  
They ran in almost absolute darkness, Tauriel holding an oil lamp half covered so to shed light only in front of them, and then after a sharp turn the Mirkwood elf signaled the other to a halt.  
“You will need your _Lócënehtar_ sword if you are supposed to kill a dragon”.  
She unlocked a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron. There was no time for much rummaging, and the weight of the whole load was deterrent to take everything that was plundered from the Company, so they focused in the main weaponry and left the garment behind. Tauriel held a burlap sac open while Ellen shove the weapons inside it as fast as she could.  
“I know we are in a hurry, but I must thank you nonetheless, as I don’t know if we will ever meet again.”  
“There is nothing to be thanked for, on the contrary, Tauriel. You are putting yourself at risk in helping us. It will never be forgotten, and we will never be able to reward you accordingly for this help.”  
Ellen put a pair of throwing axes and a mining pick inside the sac. They hauled it out of the cell and Tauriel locked the door again. There was no running with that load between them.  
“You already have. This is nothing if compared to the hope of having my land safer and free of evil.” They stopped for a moment, regaining their breath. “And you gave me back someone I missed dearly, you know.”  
“It was nothing. I just made Legolas himself find out how much not talking to you was utterly…”  
“Stupid!”  
Both dark haired elves turned to the smiling blond elf who just arrived from the complete darkness. Legolas kissed Tauriel hurriedly and helped them to carry the weaponry sac to the empty barrel storehouse, with its wooden floor and trap-door from where Thorin Oakenshield and his Company hoped to gain their freedom. Paradoxically, Bilbo was the only one to be seen, having been very efficient in freeing the dwarves and Iris and storing them inside the barrels with the help of Legolas, who went to help the women with the weapons when he saw there was only a couple of dwarves to be stowed and the elves didn’t show.  
The three elves hauled the armor sac inside a huge barrel close to the trap-door and Ellen settled herself inside it among a straw pile, hopping dearly that all those blades would not find their way into her while going down the river. She smiled and weaved her hand one last time to her new friends as they closed the lid of the barrel, and in the darkness she waited. She heard Bilbo say goodbye to them and their hurried steps out of the trap-door hall, and then the silence.

ooo000ooo

“Now, you have to get me drunk, I suppose.”  
Tauriel smiled cheekily to Legolas, who poured them wine in a small cellar beside to the barrel storehouse. He chuckled, handling her a flagon filed to the brim with the strong Dorwinion wine he feigned to drink at the autumn party.  
“No, I am sure it is _you_ who will get me drunk!”  
They toasted and drank a good mouthful of wine.  
“No, I can’t! If it is _me_ who gets _you_ drunk, then _I_ will be the one to blame. It has to be _you_ who gets _me_ drunk, so I am flawless in my duty.”  
“You are right, my sweet guard captain.”  
He drunk some more and switched his voice to match his antics of a vicious being. “You are to be found completely drunk and seduced by this horrid arrogant prince!”  
Tauriel giggled as a teenager (or centuryager, in elvish terms) and fallowed his game, narrowing her eyes at him.  
“I have no word that is naughty enough to describe such an ungentle and insidious elf, who uses his status to harass a colleague!”  
They sat on the cellar floor, leaning on the wall.  
“So, as we have to get drunk as soon as possible, let us make a game of it. To compensate for the weeks I didn’t talk to you, you can say a nasty word to describe me for every day I skipped to talk to you. Every new word you say to curse me, we drink. I think I deserve it. Dealt?”  
Tauriel smiled at Legolas knowingly. They had played similar games before, jut with other prizes than wine.  
“Hmm, it seems fair enough. Dealt!”

ooo000ooo

Bilbo had put on his ring, and patiently waited for someone come to the trap-door hall and throw the barrels to the river. He was still thinking how he himself would manage to go along with the Company, as someone should be out of the barrels to help to rescue them at the proper time, and, before anything, to help them to open the barrel lids, so they would not suffocate and have a chance to deal with the barrel ride, even if the hobbit believed they would have not much control over it, without an oar or anything that could be used as a paddle. But that was all he managed to get for them to escape Thranduil’s halls, so they would have to cope with it the way it was. From time to time he heard Tauriel and Legolas arguing about how much stupid he was, but to him it seemed to be beyond measure.  
“Stupid. Fool. Idiot. Thick-witted.”  
And to every word Tauriel rendered to Legolas, they both drank and laughed as if it was the funniest thing in Middle-Earth.  
“Clod. Silly. Stupid.”  
“Oops, you repeated this one!”  
“Then you drink twice.”  
“Why me, if it was you who erred?”  
“Because _you_ are the stupid one here!”  
Their laughter echoed in the corridor, and the contest went on.  
“Beast. Brute. Thick-skulled. Tomfool. Zany.”  
“This one I didn’t know.”  
“That’s because you are dumb. Mindless. Dull. Imbecile. Slaphappy. Ninny. Droll.”  
Legolas brought her closer to him, one arm across her waist, the other hand caressing gently her eyebrows and playing with her ear lobe.  
“I didn’t imagine the list would be so long.” His voice was becoming really doughy.  
“As long as the nights I spent without you, your moron. Goofy. Fatuous. Obtuse.”  
Tauriel hiccuped and both roared in laughter.  
“Purblind. Muzzy. Thick-headed. Rough. Slow. Crude. Shaggy. Jerk.”  
They heard the sound of footstep and smiled at each other, empty flagons in their hands, the feeling of accomplishment warming their already light heads. Legolas nuzzled her neck and smiled drunkenly and let his head rest on her shoulder, one hand possessively on her left breast, only to hear a final and sleepy “stupid!” from the lips he would never again forsake.  
As soon as Bilbo stopped to hear Tauriel’s long list of compliments to Legolas, he saw her sister coming down the corridor with Galion, the butler. Even being a feasty occasion, it was the preset day when the barrels should be sent down the river down to Long Lake, where a human town was built on pillars in the middle of the lake, and with whom Thranduil’s people had dealings and much commerce. If the barrels were not sent at the right day and time, they would be missed by the river men who should gather them at a bend of the river right before entering the lake, and be lost, on the elven-king’s expense.  
“I don’t understand, Galion, my sister said she would help us with dispatching and to take another barrel up to the party, because it would be at the same time when her turn would be over, but I cannot find her anywhere.”  
The strong elf calmed the kitchen helper down.  
“Don’t worry, little one, your sister is grown enough to care for herself. If she is not here to help us yet, she will be soon.”  
They begun to rearrange the barrels closer to the trap-door, and Galion noticed several had their lids already closed; Legolas had the idea of closing more of them than just the ones containing people.  
“Hey, Finglas, your sister has to have been here and started the job, most of the barrels are already closed.”  
“That is a relief, she must only have been interrupted by something and will be back soon.”  
She took a small hammer from the wall and put on the remaining lids on the empty barrels. Galion was about to complain for its weight while pushing one of the biggest closer to the trap-door when they heard a scary sound out from a nearby cellar.  
“What is this?”  
They both stopped what they were doing and went to investigate the sound. It doubled as they approached it. Galion laughed out loud.  
“So, so, there is your sister you were so worried about, little one!”  
Finglas took a step forward and glanced inside the cellar, not believing in what she saw. Her hundred percent self-controlled sister was seemingly drunk, snoring out loud with a large mug in her hand, while the son of the king himself dribbled on her hair, sound asleep and snoring more than her. Butler and helper laughed merrily.  
“Hey, sleepyhead, is this how you will help us with the barrels?”  
Finglas teased her sister, shaking her shoulder. The captain of the guard of the king moaned.  
“You are late! I was waiting here and you forgot your tasks! The barrels are all over (hiccup!) there.”  
Then she bowed her head and slept soundly again.  
The butler and the helper laughed at themselves and got back to the trap-door hall, where they opened it and tumbled the barrels and rolled them to the river that passed underneath it. Some of the barrels were really heavy, but questioning Tauriel again did no good at all, as she threatened them to lock them in the dungeons if they didn’t let her sleep. As Finglas had been through some of Tauriel’s worse bad hair days already, they decided in throwing the barrels, open the water-gate and be done with it.  
The water-gate was a portcullis made of metal truss that let the waters run but prevented any undesired visitor from coming up the river into the elven king palace. Incoming goods were rafted upriver and kind of fished up the trap-doors, and empty barrels were sent back by the same way. Now, the not-so-empty barrels were dropped to the water and ready to make their way to freedom when Mister Invisible Baggins ran and grabbed the last barrel border before it was sent to the waters, else he would be a rather permanent burglar in the elven kingdom, and his friends would have no one to open the barrel lids and freeing them from the chance of drowning.  
When the water-gate was opened, Bilbo ducked for life, as the wall reached close to the river surface level. The barrels bumped one into another, some really low inside the water, most probably the ones with dwarves packed inside. Iris was too lightweighed to make any difference, and Ellen’s barrel was the large one mostly dipped because of the weight of the weaponry. Bilbo felt like riding a fat pony that insisted in rolling in the dirt, just that instead of dirt there was water, and, like most hobbits in the Shire, he could not swim.  
The water was freezing cold in the night, and there was nothing to be done save waiting for a chance to open the lids so his friends could at least have a chance of getting out of them if needed. It was dark, but some light could be foretold by the blue-grey shade of what could be seen from the sky. Later that day the river made a turn slightly southwards, several barrels got caught by a hidden root, and Bilbo managed to jump from his own to one of them. He knocked on its lid and luckily heard someone shout. In no moment at all, Sting’s hilt was put to use to break the lid, and up came a completely scared Ori.  
“Stay there!” Bilbo warned him.  
“It is cold here inside!” Complained the young dwarf.  
“You cannot imagine how much it is cold here outside. So, be a good boy and stay right there!”  
Bilbo never imagined himself being harsh to so a good soul as Ori, but he was drenched to the bones and still having to free his friends, so he really didn’t have the nerve to comply with his complaints.  
The next barrel gave no answer, being empty or with a drowned dwarf inside. As it was floating well, the hobbit decided for being empty and went for the next one. That one not only shouted back but also pushed the lid from inside at one of its borders, making the opening easier. It was Thorin.  
“Do you have any more tools to open the lids?” He was fast to asking.  
“No, nor have I any clue if I’ll be able to open all stuck barrels before they gain the river again.”  
And with this he left the leader of the Company in his own barrel and jumped for the next. He freed Kíli, Bombur, Fíli and Bifur before a larger barrel hit the set caught by the root and made them loose. Almost half of the dwarves had their heads above the brim of the barrels, but there was none of the women to be seen, plus seven dwarves.  
It took until the sun shone somewhat close to dusk when another bend of the river got all of them stuck and the ones already free hurried to open the barrels in hope to find their friends alive. They were at the mouth of the river, reaching the Long Lake, where they hoped to find help amongst the men of Lake-Town.  
The dwarves were mostly wet and cold, somewhat battered and stiff for being too long time in a small place, but seemingly nothing broken, as they were scattered on the beach, groaning their discomforts. As soon as its lid was broken, a thoroughly soaked Ellen peeped her head out of her barrel looking for her nieces and for Kíli, mainly, but aware of all the dwarves around her.  
“There she is, bless my beard! I thought that bloody elven king had done something evil to my Little Sister, but there she is! I’d behead her out of joy if only I had a blade to do it!”  
Ellen heard Dwalin shout at her, walking towards her with open arms, ignoring Kíli who was trying to catch up with him. She crawled out of the barrel pulling a heavy sack and looking for something inside it, ignoring the shouting.  
“Not for lack of your own one, Little Brother Dwalin!”  
She stretched her arm as he came close enough to hold her, handling down one of his war axes to him. “But if you miss my neck, please think kindly of anyone who has not your strength and warfare knowledge, and must fight with what they have.” She tapped Bilbo’s shoulder, who smiled at her.  
The mighty dwarf smiled and looked down at his axe; she began to deliver each arm to its owner, including his other axe, under the close and vigilant eyes of Kíli, who thought he needed to protect her, and Thorin, who was still making out what this strange elf really meant to his Company. He put his hand on Dwalin’s shoulder, and explained to himself, thoughtful, in a very low tone that only the tatooed dwarf could hear.  
“She used her wits to gain Thranduil’s elves favor and get our weapons back. If she is a betrayer, it is of her own people on behalf of ours. A willing heart should not be denied.”  
Dwalin turned to Thorin, smirking.  
“How can you possibly say that she is a betrayer of her own people, my lord, if she is my Little Sister? Her people is our people, and her name will be counted among the children of Fundin.”  
Thorin nodded, smilingly. Balin was close to them and tapped him on his shoulder.  
“Now, laddie, go see your lady, all others greeted her already, she is waiting for you.”  
And indeed so it was, Lily had walked a little further from the weaponry barrel after the big fuzz of everybody rejoicing to be together sound and safe, and sat quietly on a log, fingering her scabbard, tracing the lines of its knots. _His_ knots. She looked up at him, smiling, when Thorin took her hand and helped her to stand up, bringing her close to his chest and embracing the trembling dwarf-lass.  
“A lily flower should not be frosted like this. Let me warm you.”  
“But lily buds can defy the coldest winter when they know there will be a caring gardner to bring them out to the sun again.”  
She run her fingers through his hair, then caressed his face, feeling the coarse beard in her palms.  
“It was not me who brought us out of the dungeons.” He dismissed the undue praise.  
“But you are here with me now, and nothing else matters.”  
Thorin held her tighter, and then her shivers were no more from cold, but from quenching the hunger they had for each other in a fierce kiss. After all he feared while imprisoned, that he would never more see his wild lily flower, Thorin was seriously reconsidering his former decision of waiting for settling before treating her like the _woman_ he was sure was eager for him as he was of her, instead of the fancy _maiden_ tradition imposed as proper. Tradition was good for ones settled in safe halls, but not mandatorily for ones who would face danger upon danger for Mahal knew how long.  
Almost at this time Ellen handled out the last piece of weaponry, Kíli’s quiver, shaking from cold. He embraced her tight.  
“My fancy elf! I have my fancy elf back!”  
Then she turned to him and stated in a low voice, fire in her eyes.  
“Kiss me now before I go crazy!”  
And so he did, more than yearning for her.  
“Goodness, isn’t love really beautiful, Little Brother?”  
Fíli agreed to Iris, chuckling.  
“Yes, it is. But seeing our brother on the tip of his toes to kiss your aunt is utterly embarrassing. Let us look to the other side.”  
So they did, turning their backs to the pair, but Iris was in her best philosophic non-sense mode on.  
“I really don’t know how they will manage this difference in height in the future, when they are married.”  
“For Durin’s sake, Iris, don’t air out these disgusting issues, I’ll have nightmares!”  
“But I guess horizontally it will not make such a difference...”  
He whacked her neck.  
“Mother would wash your mouth out with soap if she heard you, this is not issue for one your age!”  
Iris whacked him back.  
“Bless my beard, Fíli, how do you think Durin’s heirs are made? Out of the stone? They’ll have to do _something sometime_ if we are to have nephews, if you know what I mean.”  
“You don’t have a beard to be blessed!”  
He tried desperately to change the subject.  
“But then, if they will be my aunt’s kids, they will be our nephews and also my cousins!”  
“Too confusing, my head will ache from thinking too much.”  
She scratched her head.  
“Hey, it is worse than you can think of, for then my sister’s kids, that will be _my nephews_ , being Thorin’s kids, will also be _our cousins_ , and my sister will be aunt to her own aunt, as my aunt will be niece to her own niece!”  
“Stupendous!” It was Bilbo who intervened, smiling. “This knack of understanding a family tree like you do is seen very favorable back at the Shire.” He took her hand in his, and reached the other hand to finger her curly red hair. “Everybody there will envy me for having someone like you by my side.”  
“Hey, you little burglar, how do you dare to talk this way to my Little Sister?” Iris wasn’t completely sure if Fíli’s anger was feigned or not. “You haven’t even asked us if you could get this close to her, how do you dare to mention her going to the Shire with you?”  
“Hmm, let us reason, my friend. Has your brother asked Balin and Dwalin if he could get close to Ellen?”  
“Actually, no, but she is grown up already, and…”  
“And did your uncle ask someone if he could get close to Lily?”  
“Ah, hmm...”  
Then a smiling Iris intervened.  
“So, Little Brother, keep calm and remember that when you hire a burglar there is always the risk that he steals more than you wished for.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“My heart was stolen by this burglar, and there is nothing you or our brother can do about it at all!”


	24. Chapter 24 – In Lake Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’re you feeling?”  
> “Like an oliphaunt trampled over me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank profusely all my dozen readers for your continued support, kudos, comments and subscriptions! It takes little of your time but makes my whole day!

“Company!” Thorin’s call brought everyone to pay attention to him right away. Everyone had greeted everyone already, made sure their dearest ones were doing fine albeit wet and cold, and now was time to business. “We are close to Lake-Town now and night is falling. Is everyone able to walk somewhat to get to the city of Men? If not, the ones who are will go ahead and bring back help. No one of us will stay in the wild tonight.”  
Lily thought it was quite a change. For the little she knew of him, in similar situations he would have simply communicated that they would go to the town and that would be all of his speech. Weird things must have happened to him while in the dungeons of the elven-king. Although some soreness and aching, all of them believed they could make it to the town. Having their king solicitous about their condition only made them eager to show how they were worthy of his concern. And so they headed towards the town bridge, greeting the barrel-gatherers who were going to the bend of the river from where they were coming with a nod or a wave of hand, like they were just sauntering for a pick-nick, leaving the men with no hint of what was going on.  
Night was closing in when they got to the bridge; a pair of torches came out of the watch house and a dark haired man asked them their business, from above the palisade.  
“I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain, and I have come back to reclaim Erebor. I want to see the Master of Lake-Town.”  
With a suspicious glance at the band of half drowned rats bearing heavy weaponry, although what could be so was sheathed, the man spoke quietly to the other torch bearer and that one seemingly ran away. The Company waited patiently, while Ellen remarked to her nieces that it reminded her of when Sir Shackleton came back to the town where he and his crew departed in the _Endurance_ , a three-mastered ship, close to a year and half before, to try to cross the south pole.  
“What happened to them?” Asked the always good story hearer Ori.  
“It is a long story, to be told at another occasion, but in short their journey was to be almost like crossing _Helcaraxë_ on foot after getting close enough by ship, but the ship got caught in the ice before it should, and the twenty-eight men had to make their way back to where they came from in biter cold and low on supplies. No one expected to see them back six seasons later, all of them alive. The last track was made by their leader plus two of the crew, and the master of the town was in shock when he came to his door and said ‘I am Shackleton’, like our leader just told the gate watcher who he is.”  
“This is an astounding story, Lady Ellen. I will love to hear it in more detail when possible.”  
“And I will love to tell it to you, at least as much as I remember it.”  
“It is amazing to think that this was accomplished by humans.”  
Dori made his best to mend his brother’s blunder.  
“Shh, Ori, we are about to enter a human town, please pretend you are well-mannered!”  
Iris was close by and didn’t take it so lightly; she was angry almost like if he’d called her a _puppy_.  
“Don’t forget, you brat, there are three human-born in this Company, and...”  
But then the second watcher was back and her menace had to be postponed.  
“The Master says Durin’s folk are welcome to Lake-Town, if coming in purpose of peace.”  
The man eyed them warily, only then noticing there were not only dwarves in the band. Thorin perceived his suspicious glance at the Company and answered accordingly.  
“No purpose of war has our people or the ones who accompany us for ones who will not hinder the quest to what is ours by right.”  
“Then, follow me; he is in the feasting hall.”  
And follow him and his torch they did, plus half a dozen more guards, the whole Company walking proudly albeit wearing shabby damp clothes and some purple bruises from the barrel ride. It was obvious that the watcher had told some people about what was going on, as there were old legends and songs that told Thror would come back and gold would flow from the Lonely Mountain to Lake-Town once more. Just like if it had happened before, mind you. All that fishermen and traders were not at all worried that it was not really Thror, but his grandson, to them it was all reason to hope for better days.  
While walking to the feasting hall, Ellen could not keep from staring at the wooden buildings and asked Balin, who used to have better answers than most of the crew.  
“Brother, why did they build it all in wood in the middle of the lake?”  
“As long as I know, it is to be safe from the fire of Smaug.”  
“What? Are they crazy?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“How using feedstock that burns to build in an open area can prevent it to get burned by a thing that flies and spits fire? Or do they fancy that Smaug would come nicely to the bridge gate and ask politely if he could enter, if they please?”  
She was talking quietly, so as not to be heard by Lake-Town people who were curious about them and came to see the strange procession pass, but Kíli was close to her and made his best to hide a chuckle.  
“It can be that they think they can use the water of the lake to wet the buildings. But I agree with you, if the stronghold of Erebor could not keep Smaug away, how can it be deemed that a wood town can resist an attack?”  
The three of them shook their heads in unison and kept their pace, smiling friendly at the local dwellers, feigning they didn’t hear the whisperings around them. “It that a shield-maiden?” “See, a short-bearded dwarf!” “Do they travel with their women?” “I deemed there were no she-dwarves at all!” “And that two, are they children?” “Look at all those tatoos!” “Why is there an elf with them?”  
Thorin didn’t like all that gossip around his Company, but if people were to talk anyway, then let them have something to talk about, he thought, while glancing somewhat back to catch Lily’s eye. She was naturally shy, at least since dropped in Middle-Earth, but his silent command was not to be denied. The dwarf-lass hasted her pace a little bit, so not to seem she was running up to him, and when she got closer he reached for her hand and kept it in his, without a word.  
When they entered the feasting hall there was an uproar of bewilderment and surprise. The Master was a smart man and anticipated that he could capitalize on the whole situation when the gate watcher told him who was coming, so he welcomed Thorin as warm as if he were and old fellow, and provided that all the Company was well tended and fed. His ability to manage things fast was shown when one after another of the unexpected guests was called quietly by an attendant lad or maid, according to the genre of the subject, led to one of the many rooms of the feasting hall and given clothes to change the damp ones they were in. Not that everything fitted perfectly, but at least they were dry. Lily and Iris wore dresses for the first time since Imladris, and Ellen hoped the one she was wearing would not be considered having too short a skirt, but her elven height was more difficult to manage than her nieces’ shortness, or so she thought; she kept her tracking boots on, anyway, to cover her ankles and halfway up to her knees so the shortness of the dress would not matter. Later the girls would ask her if she deemed it easy to squeeze actual breasts into dresses made for children or, at best, for young teenagers. Bombur managed to get into a large shirt, but no pants suited him and he kept the wet ones on.  
The two sisters sat together and tried to put their pieces of information into a decent mosaic, but besides the boredom of being in dungeon things were too weird. Iris was quite unable to understand what they saw before the elves jailed them.  
“What on Earth was that triplet of teen witches in Mirkwood? I thought we had fallen in Middle-Earth, not in Hogwarts!”  
“Yes, we did, but I am sure that coat of arms was Griffindor’s, and that is Harry Potter stuff!”  
“Maybe they were just people like us at a LARP meeting and dropped here in Middle-Earth too?”  
“Hmm, good theory. It would even explain their magic wands working, as our boffers changed themselves in real weapons.”  
“But wouldn’t it be too much of a coincidence to have another band of LARPers falling here?”  
“What’s the alternative? It would also be too much a coincidence to have two worlds that we knew as fiction books to actually exist.”  
“Well, if we think what a coincidence it was for us to be found by Radagast and then by the Company…”  
“Aye, you are right.”  
Iris chuckled.  
“You are already talking like a dwarf!”  
Lily elbowed the hobbit-lass.  
“What’s the matter? Actually, I _am_ a dwarf, if you didn’t find it out yet!”  
Iris chomped on an apple pie and opened her eyes wide.  
“Lily, and if they are all real and we are not?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“The stories! All the stories! Middle-Earth, Hogwarts, Narnia, Star Wars, all those stories, and if they are real and our Earth is a book?”  
The dwarven-lass shook her head and moved Iris’ wine mug away from her.  
“Fíli, you brat, what did you mix in Iris’ wine?”

ooo000ooo

Some elves from Thranduil’s halls that were there recognized Ellen, and shot questionings at her.  
“Is this not the one who was guest at our king’s halls claiming she had been a prisoner of the dwarves? Why are you here amongst our enemies?”  
She couldn’t help but to smile, while leaning closer to Kíli to make it evident the elves had been cheated.  
“You see, it looks like the _terrible_ dwarves kidnapped me _again_!”  
The dwarves roared in laughter, while the elves got red with anger.  
“It is betrayal! Our king trusted her!”  
Ellen laughed heartedly, with a mischievous smile in her face, thinking to herself. “ _Yes, he trusted me so much that I was locked in my room every night and had a permanent watcher over me all day long_.” But that would be quite aggressive, and she chose to just tease on.  
“You see, your king may have something to learn yet; _my_ king, at least, always says ‘ _you can never trust an elf_ ’. You should learn with him.”  
The Master of the town didn’t know how to handle this, but Thorin made it up for him.  
“Lady Ellen, please; we are here as guests of the Master of Lake-Town, city of Men, who acknowledge us in our right; you don’t have to answer to other guests’ unfounded accusations.”  
She smiled back at her king and friend, nodding in acquiescence like a good girl, knowing he was as amused as herself, but more determined to be diplomatic right then. Ellen had had her lot of diplomatics back at Mirkwood and needed a little mischief to regain her mental sanity. Thranduil’s elves stood up and went away very distressed, which had no effect at all but to make the whole Company laugh thunderously.  
After a whole day barrel ride, the Company needed a good long dinner to recover, plus a lot of ale too, and it was time enough for the Masters’ attendants to provide a house where they were comfortably hosted. Bilbo was the first one to head there, shivering with cold even in his dry clothes. Soon most of the others followed him, and only some of the youngest and the most stubborn remained, that means, the Durins and the women. Thorin himself drank little, knowing he had to had his wits alert to deal with the Master, and made his best to postpone to the next day any meaningful negotiation; but knowing his nephews, it would do no harm to keep an eye on them when they were drunk. Just in case.  
While they were walking to the house where the Company was, two families together as none of them would guess half a year ago, Ellen asked Thorin something that was in her mind for a long time already but never seemed to have a chance to be mentioned, and now having the Lonely Mountain close at hand she remembered to.  
“Thorin, when you were against me and Kíli coming together, one of your arguments was that I would go back to my world after we reached Erebor.”  
“Yes?”  
“But why didn’t you mind it when you thought it was Iris who would be one with Fíli?”  
He laughed quietly.  
“She is younger, and usually younger people are more willing to change their own minds than grown up ones, like you.”  
“So...?”  
“She was not the one who put herself at risk daring my best warrior to grant her going to Erebor. One who had that determination to find the Gate was not expected to give it up.”  
“I understand.” She glanced down at Kíli, walking at her side, hand in hand, smiling at her a somewhat drunken smile, and nodded in agreement. “But sometimes we must give up things once important for the sake of others, that are better.”

ooo000ooo

Next day poor Bilbo was pure fever, as seemingly his day long in the cold water took more from him than he had to give. Óin was fast asleep, seemingly with a tremendous hangover, so Thorin sent for a healer and asked Lily to see him work along so she could learn something, as she was so good with herbs. The healer was promptly provided, but the man insisted that a horseleech should be applied to put his fever down. Considering their former world had had its own Dark Age long before, Iris and Lily were about to defenestrate the poor fellow for his medicinal beliefs when Ellen intervened, with a quick blink of an eye.  
“Girls, please, let the healer work. I know you don’t like it, but do as Iris always does to your dear Aunty, would you? The sooner he starts it, the sooner Bilbo will be better.”  
Bilbo himself was too weak to protest, but his wide eyes to the idea of having a thing sucking his blood out showed what he thought about it. Iris agreed, perceiving Ellen had something in mind, and the healer went to fetch the medicinal horseleech, promising he would be back in a minute. Lily stirred the fire in the hearth, guessing where to that would lead. The hobbit turned to the elf.  
“If I survive this, I’ll kill you!”  
“No, you won’t, dear fellow. We will do as Iris always does to me, and it will be all right.” The she turned to the girl. “Iris, dear, go to your brothers and provide some distraction for the healer right after you hear Bilbo yell.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Right then the healer was back, with a dark slug-like thing at the bottom of a bucket. Iris went out of the room and left them to look after the hobbit. She knew bleeding was once upon a time believed to be the best medicine to quench fever because when the person lost blood her face got pale and her temperature really dropped, but for no reason than side effect from hypovolemia.  
The healer chose Bilbo’s left side of the belly to apply his remedy, and good willing Ellen and Lily helped him in immobilizing the poor hobbit. As expected, the patient yelled as soon as the grub touched his skin, and in no time at all a loud thud and a cry were heard from the living room.  
“What a luck you are here, master healer, please go see what happened in the living room, I’m sure someone needs your skills right now!”  
Lily shoved the man out of the room, closing the door after him.  
Ellen had got a coal from the fireplace already, touching only its completely black places, and Lily hold Bilbo’s shirt up to expose the bleeder. Bilbo was about to panic seeing the elf coming to him with a living ember in her bare hand, but the dwarf hushed him quickly.  
“If you shout, I’ll call the healer!”  
The poor hobbit swallowed down at this, preferring to have those two non-healers with an ember next to him that that bloody healer and his yet bloodier leech. And speaking about leeches, the thing coiled upon itself and released its bait as soon as Ellen touched its head with the brazen coal, leaving a small bleeding spot where it had stuck. Lily took the disgusting thing and hurled it through the open window. Ellen put a handkerchief upon the bleeding spot, then Bilbo’s shirt down and the blanket up. It was just in time for the healer to come back.  
“What happened out there, master?”  
“Oh, nothing serious, some of the dwarves were training to throw the halfling and she got dropped on a table, but nothing was broken.” He noticed the covered patient. “Did the horseleech fasten well?”  
“Yes, yes, we just pulled the blanked over for him to be more comfortable. How long must it be there?”  
The healer thought for a while.  
“Usually, I’d leave it there for as long as day, but considering his size, it can be pulled out at the setting sun. I’ll be back by then to do it.”  
“Oh, there is no need to trouble yourself because of so a little thing, just tell us how we should pull the thing out?”  
“As a matter of fact, it cannot be _pulled_.” He said quietly to them as if he was telling some magic secret. “It has to be _burned_. Take small pine stick, lit it and get close to it. It can char the patient a little, but it is still the best way to get a horseleech out, trust my words. Don’t forget, it has to be a _pine_ stick, no other wood will work!”  
Ellen gave him her best wide-eyed _I’m amazed_ look and led him to the front door, thanking him for his thunderstrucking healing skills. As soon as he was out of sight and of hearing, she closed the door, leaned back on it and laughed until tears flowed from her eyes, just as Lily and Iris were doing; Thorin, his nephews and some other dwarves looked at them without understanding anything.  
“So, may I know what is this all about?” Asked the grumpy leader of the Company.  
“Nothing... really...”  
None of them stopped laughing completely, and were still trying to catch their breaths.  
“Lily, have you learned something from the healer?” Thorin demanded.  
“Sure!”  
She roared, and there were more five minutes of nonsensical laughter. When they calmed down again, Bilbo’s small voice could be heard from his room, asking for water.  
“Are you feeling better, my friend?”  
Thorin asked his favorite burglar.  
“Better! Much better, now that the bloody healer is far away from here. Leeches! He wanted to bleed me with leeches!” He drank the water down, trying to quench his feverish thirst. “Ellen, what was that talk about doing things like Iris does to you? I didn’t understand a thing!”  
The women chuckled hard.  
“It is quite simple, Bilbo. When I say to Iris to do something one way, she feigns she agrees and when I turn my back to her she does things her own way. That’s what we’ve done with the healer! Now he is happy and content that his treatment was followed and won’t pester you anymore.”  
“But why had we to agree to his treatment at all? It was _my_ blood going into that worm!”  
Ellen managed to control her laughter, and spoke earnestly.  
“Because we need the help of this town; if we openly reject their most capable healer the very first day we are here, they can get resentful and less willing to help us. Sorry for the blood you shed, but it was for a good cause.”  
Thorin shook his head.  
“I must agree you three have a strange way to deal with sticky situations, but it works. Even if now the whole Lake-Town will gossip for a year and a day about the strange training of my nephews.  
“Don’t worry, Uncle, we told the healer it was for me to jump into higher grounds when we reach the Lonely Mountain and have to climb it; I’d bet a tuna can, if I had one, that he believed!”  
Thorin still thought it strange to be called ‘uncle’ by the red haired hobbit brat, but as she was his nephews’ Little Sister, he was, technically, a kind of uncle to her, too. He turned to Lily.  
“Now, what can you say you learned from the healer, my lady?”  
She chuckled again.  
“I can say that a curious woman from my old world with some knowledge on herbs can be more effective than a healer from this town of men.” She pondered, then. “Of course I have no knowledge in matters he might be skilled, like stitching wounds, set broken bones, childbirth, but I think I can deal with smaller wounds and assorted illnesses doing more good than harm. By the way, I must go find some herbs to help Bilbo.”  
The hobbit weaved a hand at her, while reaching for a clean handkerchief with the other.  
“Thag you very butch!”

ooo000ooo

Lily had so much as stepped outside the house and was surrounded by curious people who cheered up anyone of the Company who dared to show his nose. She weaved a hand, smiled shyly and stepped back into the house. Nothing in her live prepared her to be the center of attentions like that, and back at Imladris people were really nice to her, no elf ever stared at her like those people, nor mentioned anything about her being a _wandering-she-dwarf-shield-maiden_. Human people seemed so uncouth in comparison Lily shivered from thinking she could have been like them in other circumstances.  
“I don’t know if I’ll be actually able to get out of here alone. Is this crowd out there all the time?”  
It was. When she was at Bilbo’s room she could not hear it, but the people was there, singing old songs about the return of the King Under the Mountain and all richness and wealth that would run through the River Running down from the Mountain into Lake Town. Thorin didn’t like very much what was implicit in this kind of song, but had to cope with it because he really needed Lake-Town’s help to accomplish his goal. They would need provisions, clothes, transportation, lots of things that he was yet to negotiate with the Master and deemed would cost him more than what would be fair. His strong dwarven instinct sought a way to protect his jewel.  
“If you’d like better to stay, just name what you need and it will be provided. Do you need to see an herbalist or you’d rather search in the wild for what you need?”  
She thought for a moment.  
“I don’t know. There are things that can be found at any grocery store, I just must see what is available; I don’t know what kind of plants I may find in the wild, and how long would it take for me to find them; maybe an herbalist could help a lot, but I don’t know if the herbs I know have the same name here, so I should have to see them to make sure.”  
“I can ask for an herbalist to come here; you can discuss the uses of the plants you need and pick up what you choose.”  
“No, if we are not to openly reject the healer’s choice of treatment, then we cannot call for an herbalist to come here. I must go out.” Lily looked into Thorin’s eyes with a new flame and resolution shining in them. “And I cannot hide myself as if I were in shame, I’m a proud member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield and if I believe I have the nerve to face a dragon then I must have the nerve to face a bunch of curious people.”  
“Let us go shop, then.”

ooo000ooo

It took no more than two hours for Lily to gather everything she wanted and a little more. When she, Thorin, Kíli and Dwalin came back to the house, they had not only herbs and food that would be prepared in certain ways to favor Bilbo’s healing but also gifts people gave them as they crossed the wooden paths of the town. Some of them were embarrassing, but they could not reject any, so they would not offend those who saw in them the hope of the coming of a new age of wealth and abundance.  
The first gift to be misused was a very strong brandy bottle, of which Lily mixed a cup to fresh water and gave it to Iris dampen a cloth and sweep Bilbo’s face and arms. It wasn’t exactly pure alcohol, but would do. He was asleep, but sweating profusely out of his fever; Iris had taken the blanket away for him to cool down, but then he got shivers and she didn’t know what to do. Soon afterward Lily came in with a tea mug for the hobbit and they woke him up to drink.  
“How’re you feeling?”  
“Like an oliphaunt trampled over me.”  
He took a probing sip and thought it tasted good, against his fears. Healers’ teas didn’t use to taste that good. Lily had cooled the elderflower tea with lemon juice and added honey.  
“Can you breathe in deep?”  
He tried.  
“Yes.”  
“Any pain when you do it?”  
“Hmm, no. Not more than my whole body aches anyway.”  
“That’s fine.” She took the empty mug back. “Bombur is cooking a chicken soup for you, it will make you feel better. I hope you like garlic. Sleep as much as you can, your body needs rest to recover. Iris, make sure he drinks plenty of water and any tea that I will bring later.”  
And so the new official healer apprentice of the Company left the room and her patient under the care of Iris.


	25. Chapter 25 – Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Pebbles!” Lily cursed. “He cannot hide his head in a hole in the ground like an ostrich, pretending nothing is happening!”  
> “What is an ostrich?” Asked Kíli, wide eyed.  
> “Hmm, a big stupid haradrim bird, so to say.”

In the meanwhile Ellen, Bifur and Glóin were helping Bombur in the kitchen, as cooking for the whole Company could be toilsome and the elf wanted not only to help, as she had never been one who could stand still, but also to see Bombur in action with all assorted foods and seasonings he had at hand. The round bellied dwarf was so cunning in cooking even with the least stuff that she wondered what he would be able to do with all that abundance of options.  
The woman was mincing bacon to garnish a lamb when Thorin and the others came back from searching meds for Bilbo and went straight to the kitchen with what they gathered and what people gave them also. A somewhat sweet, somewhat acid smell reached her nose and startled the elf instantly. She washed her hands hurriedly to help them put down the stuff they brought, only to find a wicker basket full of assorted fruits in Kíli’s hands. Ellen had no clue it was one of the gifts Lake-Town people gave them and the dwarves did not know how to decline with no offense.  
“You brought fruit to me?” The smile in her face and widening eyes was priceless. “Do you know how much I missed fresh fruit since Elrond’s house? Even in the elven-king halls I had fruit only seldom…”  
Kíli was disconcerted, as it was not his doing at all, but he was getting used to the idea that, when feeling safe but still malnourished, Ellen’s craving for the foods her elven body needed made her skip reason and see only what she wanted to. He lifted the basket a little towards her, a crooked smile I his face, not knowing what to do. She took the basket in her hands and put it on the counter with an almost adoring look in her eyes.  
“Did I ever tell you that I love you?”  
Now he got really embarrassed.  
“Hmm, well, yes, but, actually, never in front of anybody...”  
Ellen took a black plum in her hand, looking straight at Kíli, ignoring the three cooking dwarves in the kitchen and Lily brewing tea.  
“I hope there is no forbiddance in the dwarven traditions about expressing feelings in public.”  
She bit the plum very slowly, closing her eyes in delight; some juice dripped from the corner of her mouth and she wiped it with the tip of a finger, then licked the juice gazing at Kíli so intently one could almost see the electricity running between them.  
“Not quite, lass, but it is considered private matter and so, ungraceful to be mentioned in public.”  
It was Glóin who explained, while peeling some potatoes.  
“Uh, sorry, I didn’t know.” Glóin’s remark brought her back to her feet. “Thank you for explaining, master Glóin, I still have so much to learn to behave properly.”  
She sighed and finished the plum and, even disconcerted, the unbroken gaze exchange between her and Kíli spoke more than any words would have. It had been weeks of loneliness in the elven realm, and although they kept as close as they could since getting out of the barrels the day before, they had had little or almost no private time at all.  
“No problem at all, elf, I know how it is to be in love, sometimes you lose all sense of what is proper or not.” Replied Glóin, chuckling. Being the only married dwarf in the Company made him more comprehensive of the young couple drives, and also made him feel a bit responsible for giving them advice.  
“Hey, Kíli, Uncle is calling.” Fíli irrupted in the kitchen and took his brother by one arm, breaking their magic gaze apart; the blond looked at what Ellen went back to work on and smiled broadly. “Hmm, stuffed lamb? It is my favorite!”  
 _“Food_ is your favorite!” Kíli replied while they got out of the kitchen, casting a last longing look to the woman that braided his hair.

ooo000ooo

The first week was spent recovering their health from being locked in the dungeons and banged in the barrel ride, and it meant mountains of food, newly combed, braided and trimmed beards and hairs, clothes made in their favorite colors and lots of training to regain fitness. Bilbo recovered fairly well from his flu, although his speeches in the banquets Lake-Town people held in honor of their guests were limited to a “Thag you very butch” for the first three days. As expected, the healer became greatly prized for having cured the halfling, and the Company kept their secret of what became of the leech.  
Then Thorin became restless and started to plan the last leg of the journey, up from there to the Lonely Mountain. The Master of Lake-Town, still capitalizing on the opportunity of having the dwarves in his debt, had put into his service what they would need in ponies, boats and supplies. The dwarf insisted in having a price named for what was being dealt, but the Master wouldn’t, arguing that is was nothing more than fair to help those who would get them rid of Smaug, and that any compensation Thorin would deem as fair could be thought of later.  
He was at the house one late afternoon grumbling these thoughts with himself when he got distracted by the female triplet of his party that burst into the living room chatting loudly with their hands full of packs of assorted sizes. They greeted him warmly, Lily placing a quick kiss on his startled mouth and then closing themselves in their own room. Thorin wished he could be less tied to tradition as to care less for reputation, but he couldn’t, else he would have her sleeping into his own room, but it would be completely inappropriate, even if they slept cuddled together in their sleeping rolls out in the wild. He could not make her be seen as less than completely respectable if he wanted her to be at his side in the future and reckoned as fit for queenship.  
Thorin was lost in this line of thought, trying to find a way to cheat traditions like if he were a youngling like his nephews, when Lily came back to the living room smiling brightly in a brand new silken dress, a prussian blue color that made her eyes outstand and favored her hazel color hair; white lace added refinement and embroidered pearly white beads made her every movement set out a delicate gleam. She spun herself around in front of him, smiling  
“So, do you like it?”  
He was smiling. Was Lily bothering herself if he liked what she wore?  
“Yes, but…”  
“…But?”  
“ _But I’d rather see you with no dress at all_ ”, he thought, but of course didn’t say a word of this; instead he teased her. “Don’t you deem it is too fair a gown to climb up a mountain?”  
She felt clumsy and lowered her eyes.  
“Of course, Thorin, it is not meant to use in the wild, I just wanted to wear something pretty while were at Lake-Town, and then later, when Erebor is taken back and I’ll have to wander in the wild no more.”  
The dwarf stood up, smiling at the young woman, holding her close to him with one hand in her waist while tracing her beard-braid with the fingertips of the other hand.  
“This is not _pretty_. This stands _beautiful_ on you. It is perfectly fit for a dwarven lady to wear wherever she wants. Erebor’s gold is more than enough to pay for any gown you like.”  
“But you don’t have to pay for anything!” She complained.  
“Don’t worry, Lily, everything that Lake-Town is providing us will be compensated in due time.”  
“But it will not be necessary, Thorin, we already paid for the dresses and all other stuff!”  
“Who paid for _what_?”  
He didn’t quite understand what she meant with _all other stuff_ and gave her a queer look. Fíli was playing craps with Kíli, Ori and Nori at a table nearby and turned to Thorin, elucidating the mystery.  
“It must have been Ellen, Uncle. It seems the money she had with her when they came to Middle-Earth changed itself so she could use it, like their swords and other stuff.” He turned to Kíli, smilingly. “It looks like you have a rich bride, brother.”  
Kíli lowered his eyes, slightly disturbed but not wanting to show.  
“I cannot call her my bride, yet. It has not been announced.”  
Thorin looked at his unhappy nephew, felling a strong connection. He too wished somethings could be otherwise, but was his duty to grant his people’s traditions and beliefs should be respected and followed.  
“Betrothal will come in due time, son. For both of us. I, for myself, will not announce my intentions while the home I have to grant my beloved one is back at the Blue Mountains. Would you?”  
The young dwarf looked up at his uncle, understanding. If his betrothal was announced before they reclaimed Erebor, they would have to have their wedding at Ered Luin and dwell there for at least a year and a day. His heart yearned for Ellen and to have her at his side as soon as possible, but also craved for Erebor, a realm he never knew, but that was set into his heart as his righteous home since he was a toddler. Going back to live at the Blue Mountains was not a choice. He swallowed down his desire.  
“You are right, Uncle. It is not only the Jewel who mustn’t haste.”

ooo000ooo

Ellen wanted some fresh fruit to last her while going on boat up to The Desolation of Smaug and persuaded Kíli to help her carry it. She still deemed it strange to wear weaponry while in a town, as it was completely improper at her own old world and also at Imladris, the only town she knew in Middle-Earth, but understood in Lake-Town they had to show people what they were at, at least out of the house they were dwelling in for the time being; so, she shook her head and fastened her short sword scabbard around her waist and took the wicker basket where fruits had been given to the Company right after they came.  
Kíli tried to push her into every alley they found so he could kiss her or touch her without any witness, as his uncle and her brothers were playing the perfect watchdogs around them, but it seemed to be quite impossible with every person in the town wanting to seem them, to get close to anyone of the Company who would defeat the dragon and make gold run the River from the Mountain to Lake-Town as the prophecies said. So he conceded that they would just buy fruits and wander aimlessly as long as the staring humans didn’t bother them.  
The elf had chosen to buy fruit from a certain marketer she got acquainted that she knew always had high quality fruit. Kíli hadn’t been there before, as the elf used to go ‘fruiting’, as the dwarves got to say, along with her nieces. But that day she got him to accompany her, as it seemed to be the last ‘normal’ day they would have in a long time. Actually, she got used that the ‘normal’ in her Middle-Earth life was quite different from the ‘normal’ she was used to in her former world. They reached the fruit seller.  
“How’re faring, Lara? And little Ulfir?”  
Ellen made him a beckoning gesture with her fingers, smiling, and the baby in the fruit marketer’s lap giggled, already acquainted to her, which surprised Kíli. Ulfir stretched his chubby arms to be held by the elf lady, and his mother lent him to the tall stranger.  
“What does Milady fancy today? We have apples, peaches, cranberries, pears, plums, elderberries, blackberries...”  
The elf-woman listened what the supplier had, even if it was not quite different from what she had the day before, while cradling the baby. Then she ordered what she wanted, making the baby giggle in her arms and making Kíli look confused and suspicious.  
“I didn’t know you knew so well how to deal with babies.”  
The elf tickled the little boy’s belly just to make him giggle, with not even a glance to the dwarf.  
“Kíli, Kíli, Kíli, did you forget I helped my brother to raise my nieces?”  
Ulfir decided it was time for a nap and stuck a finger in his mouth, albeit all the teasing from the tall woman. He giggled again, thumb still in his mouth, resting his face against her breast, to which Ellen instinctively patted his back as if to make him burp.  
Half ashamed for almost forgetting what he knew about the one he loved, half grateful for having someone who knew something about a matter he had no experience at all and he hoped would be needed in the future, he closed his mouth and just gazed at her, trying to understand what kind of Jewel Mahal put into his hands, remembering what he already knew about her, that he learned back at Imladris’ forge.  
“How could I possibly forget the day you told me that?”  
The memory of that day made the dwarf to smile as the recalled it to himself.

ooo000ooo

“You really love your uncle, I see.” Said the elf, smilingly, while fastening the tangs of the arrow points to the shafts. They were chatting at ease while making more arrows, as Ellen wanted to give a full quiver to Arwen as a gift, and Kíli just told her a funny story from his childhood.  
“Of course I do. He may be though to deal with, sometimes, but he is really a caring uncle.” Kíli feathered one more arrow and stood up to fetch a mug of water. The forge was hot that afternoon, but they liked the secluded place. “Your nieces love you too, I see.”  
She kept her eyes on the arrow she was making.  
“I helped to raise them. I was about the age Iris is now when my parents died in a car crash, and I moved to my brother’s house. He is twelve years older than me, just as I am twelve years older than Lily, and he was already married, Lily was four years old when I moved in. We were not quite over that loss when Iris was born, and her mother died in childbirth. I helped to take care of the girls.”  
There was an uncomfortable silence where Kíli didn’t know what to say. He was about to try to change the subject to something lighter when the elf spoke again, very quietly. The unfinished arrow lay on the bench where she sat, her eyes in the dying fire of the forge, but her gaze lost somewhere in the past.  
“My brother was writing his PhD thesis when it all happened; he could not lose the deadline, else he would have to pay back his scholarship, and would lose his job in the lab, and he could not afford it, it was all he had to maintain us all; so he worked at it and I took care of the girls, though I was still in highschool, the girls stayed in childcare part time so I could attend classes.” Ellen took a deep breath. “Each night, when my brother came home from the lab, we would hold each other and cry.” Her voice faded into a whisper. “I was seventeen.”  
Kíli knew not what to say, in part because he had not the slightest clue of what a ‘lab’ or a ‘PhD’ could possibly be, but put the mug of water on the worktable and got closer to her. Seventeen was an early age even for a human to get through all that. Ellen lifted her face to the touch of his rough thumb erasing a tear from her cheek and looked at him with hurt gray blue eyes.  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t vent out on you, just it’s been a long time I don’t recall this part of my life, and…”  
She looked down again and suppressed a sob. The dwarf gently stroked her hair, caressed her shoulder and made her lean to his chest while silent tears run from her eyes, and Kíli spoke softly to her.  
“Hey, it’s all right, lass, it is all right…”  
“I shouldn’t be bothering you…”  
He made her look up at him again, lifting the elf’s face from the soft fabric of his shirt, touching her chin with two fingers.  
“You are not, Ellen. We are members of the Company, we are friends, and friends _care_ for each other, and _take care_ of each other...”  
The serious look in his dark emerald eyes gave her strength. The thought of someone like him taking care of her made the elf feel warm inside, and it wasn’t due to the fire of the forge. Ellen reached a tentative hand to touch Kíli’s stumble beard, smelling the musky scent that emanated from his strong muscles so close to her, and felt his breath get a bit faster, like her own, then asked, a questioning frown on her forehead.  
“Do you care for me, my _friend_?”  
“I do.” He stroked her hair, and then traced the line of her pointed ear. “More than a _friend_ would.”  
She entwined her long fingers in his hair, in a mild suggestion.  
“Would you _take care_ of me?”  
“I would.” Kíli leaned down. “I will.”  
It was almost dinner time when Fíli saw them coming from the forge with a full quiver of newly made arrows, and asked his brother in Iglishmêk, to which Ellen was oblivious.  
“ _What took you so long? Your smile is so big you’re almost biting your own ears_!”  
Kíli answered in the same gesture language, not changing his grin at all.  
“ _I kissed the elf_!”

ooo000ooo

Some days later a small herd of ponies and sturdy horses left Lake-Town loaded with provisions to last the whole Company fairly long. Much of it was dehydrated food, which would be reconstituted with River Running waters in due time, so it would be lighter to carry; the women had put half of the Company to crack and mince nuts, and they knew they’ll havelembas to grant them nourished enough for several days; Lily found out the herbalist had black pepper down from Far Harad, and Ellen granted her the gold weight it cost; several other medicinal herbs were bought also, along with assorted bandages; they were fairly far into autumn, and not knowing how long would it take to accomplish what they dared, winter clothes and assorted garments and comforters were provided too.  
The morning they would part in the boats was heavy on the whole Company. They had made some friends at Lake-Town, as side effect from having a banquet or a party every night since they arrived, and also from having their training sessions on shore. There was no enough room in the small courtyards built out of wood, meant mostly to marketing; even the small town guard used to train ashore, and leant their humble facilities to the Company, eager to witness what they were able to do.  
Knowing what they might be facing soon, Thorin had decided on changing training focus from one against many to many against one. The women had some training in pitched battle when boffer fighting at their old world, but even then it was a fight against opponents the same size as them. They had not the slightest idea of how they could actually train how to defeat a dragon when the whole army of Erebor didn’t manage it when Smaug came first time. Of course it could not be discussed with Thorin in front of the others, but Ellen and Bilbo really wanted to talk about it sometime. It was kind as if their leader was trying to ignore their uttermost calamity, and they felt it would do no good to the quest.  
His stubbornness made it impossible to discuss dragon-slaying matters with Thorin, and in later days not even Balin or Lily managed to talk to him touching what would be done when finally opening the Back Door, as if he could focus only one issue at a time and had to reject any mention to further topics. Maybe coming closer to the Mountain would help to bring him to reason.  
The same dark haired man who greeted them when the Company first reached Lake-Town was the one to accompany them upriver, as it was not just rowing and rowing. The lake could be treacherous, mainly where River Running fed it, two days of rowing from the Town. Bard was dark mooded man, who didn’t rejoice in the coming of the dwarves as most people did, considering the real menace of the dragon, even if Smaug was not to be heard of for the last sixty years. He was of the line of Girion, the last Lord of Dale, whose family barely escaped the destruction that came with the dragon, so many years before. His friendship to them was that of a brother-in-arms, that of one who dealt with warfare like them, but not much else. He didn’t believe Smaug was dead, and, being the leader of the first boat, was not at all shy to discuss the matter with Thorin while they both rowed. It was obvious that it would do no good.  
When they camped that night at the western shore, Thorin’s mood was the one they were mostly used to, which means, his personal black cloud hovering above his head. He spread out orders swiftly and went to wander along the shore alone, smoking his pipe. His nephews and his burglar asked Lily, who was with him in the first boat along with Balin, what was going on.  
“He doesn’t want to hear anyone who questions him about dealing with Smaug. Bard believes the beast is alive, as dragons live as long as none kills them, and there is no news of anyone having done so. He said to Thorin that he would be held responsible for any trouble the dragon may bring to Lake-Town if he is stirred.”  
“I understand why he is upset, but it doesn’t change the fact that there is a dragon and we have no strategy to deal with it.” Ellen intervened. “For what I know, these overgrown lizards are almost invulnerable, else Thror’s army would have dealt with him when he came. There is really a problem and Thorin is either ignoring the lack of a solution or he has a plan he doesn’t want to share yet.”  
“If Uncle had a plan he would share it, I’m sure. We tried to discuss it with him already, there comes no word out of him.”  
“Pebbles!” Lily cursed. “He cannot hide his head in a hole in the ground like an ostrich, pretending nothing is happening!”  
“What is an _ostrich_?” Asked Kíli, wide eyed.  
“Hmm, a big stupid haradrim bird, so to say.”  
Fíli added _ostrich_ to his long mental list of insulting names, smilingly.  
“But then, there is a point we are not pondering.”  
“Yes?”  
“We don’t know what we will find once there. We are in hope of finding the Back Door, but if we don’t find it? If we find it, then, what if we’re not able to open it? If we open it, what will we find inside? We don’t know what Smaug has done to the insides of Erebor, we don’t have _how to_ plan!”  
“What do you mean with _we have not how to plan_? It is the _basics_ in strategic planning, to plan under conditions of uncertainty!” Ellen was feeling herself in her own ground and counted on her fingers. “You gather all available data, filter what is relevant, delineate possible scenarios, weight the probabilities, consider the alternatives, and draw a grid of approaches to the problem! It’s quite simple!”  
They eyed her queerly.  
“Hmm, Aunty, have you ever done something like this without a computer at hand?”  
“Lily, a computer is just a _tool_. Bonaparte, Churchill, Julius Cesar, Alexander Magnus, Genghis Khan, Sun Tzu, do you think they had computers?”  
“Of course not, but they didn’t have a dragon to kill with only a dozen and half warriors.”  
“I’m not even a half-warrior, just a half-ling!” Complained Bilbo.  
“You lack faith, dear; they didn’t have the warriors _we_ have!”


	26. Chapter 26 – White Collar Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This, no. No way. It would be ignominious!”  
> “Less ignominious than to be munched by a dragon, I deem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I was watching the Hobbit Fan Event and lost count of time...

Next day Ellen managed to rearrange some places in the boats, and Thorin didn’t even disagree, as he was in no mood to row beside Bard again. So, Bard and Lily changed places with Kíli and Ellen and boats one and three changed positions as Bard should be in the front one to guide them through the streams. Thorin didn’t become aware of his mistake until they were fairly away from the margin and Ellen took out some paper sheets and a pencil she borrowed from Ori.  
“Gentledwarves, I wish you are comfortable at your seats and that we all have a nice morning. Our goal at this meeting is to check what information we have that may help us to accomplish our target, and to consider alternatives. Any doubts?”  
Thorin eyed her angry, the black cloud above his head beaming out lightnings, Kíli holding his chuckles less his uncle’s anger would turn to him too.  
“What do you think you’re doing? Who asked you to at all?”  
“I’m doing my job, sir, out of professional duty, as I swore to put me and my knowledge at your service, and out of sense of self preservation. I’m not going into a dragon’s lair without a plan, nor leading my nieces there with no clue of what may happen; even if I swore to follow thee into the underworld if it has to be, it is not my desire to visit the Waiting Halls in Valinor _right now_ , so, if all doubts are made clear, let us plan.”  
The king was spluttering now, rowing faster as to burn his anger out.  
“Who do you think you are to command a plan to be formulated?”  
The elf lowered her voice and uplifted her eyebrows.  
“I am the only one with a mastering degree in strategics within an _one world_ range. This is more than even your most experienced adviser can say, isn’t it so, Little Brother?” She turned to Balin, who smiled proudly back, and to whom Thorin turned his attention with a betrayed look.  
“You know, laddie, that me and Dwalin have spent many an hour in this journey talking to our Little Sister here about warfare, and I can’t quite remember someone that I could reckon as having so a deep knowledge not only of war history but also the strategies behind them.” Thorin snorted and Kíli pulled hard to keep his pace in the rowing. “Why don’t you give her a chance to show what she is able to? It would do no harm.”  
“I don’t believe her otherworldly knowledge will work in Middle-Earth, moreover against a dragon. She cannot claim any experience against real dragons.”  
Ellen remembered a bloody Human Resources Director she had at a former employ and thought Thorin’s statement was not completely true, but let it be. It was Kíli who gave the final excuse to make Thorin reason.  
“Uncle, remember Ellen had no experience against _real_ warriors when she beat _Dwalin_...”  
Thorin swallowed hard his pride, paddling the row a little slower, much to Kíli’s relief.  
“I warn you that no word of what has been said here until now has to be spread amongst the others.” The three of them agreed, eager for what words would come next. “Even a bad plan is better than no plan at all, I deem. What information do you need to do your work, elf?”

ooo000ooo

Like the day before, they didn’t land the boats until short before nightfall, with barely time enough to gather wood and set camp for the night. It would be their last hot meal while in the wild, as next night they would already be in the area known as _The Desolation of Smaug_ , a large patch around the Lonely Mountain where once were verdant forests, green pastures and abundant crops. While the dwarves were busy mining and making astoundingly fine workmanship in smiths, jewelry, armory, and all kind of high quality artifacts, the men of Dale busied themselves not only in fabric, clothes, household and toys making, but also in supplying Erebor with food of all kinds. Vineyards grew the finest beverages, Esgaroth produced the most savory salmon and trout, and the pork fed with the remainder of their cheese making resulted in the most famous ham from all north realms.  
Then Smaug came and burnt it all.  
When Bombur declared soup was ready, Ellen still took a while to finish her calculations and notes on which she was working all day long since Thorin and Balin gave her the most accurate possible data about dragon biology and magic-craft (as if this science was ever defined) in general and of Smaug in particular, Erebor’s many floorplans and their current known or guessed state, a formal list of the Company’s members skills and abilities, and miscellaneous items probably to be found in the battleground, along with the likelihood of them to be found in useful state. Thorin kept close by and made Kíli and Balin to keep there too, so to grant his request that nothing should be told to anyone else before he ordered it to. The other members of the Mischievous Company, as the women plus Fíli, Kíli and Bilbo defined themselves since the horseleech incident, were kept at bay, biting their nails in curiosity. Ellen handled the papers to Thorin, with an inquisitive but serious look.  
“Am I allowed to dine before our meeting, sir?”  
He looked down at the papers only to find out they were written in a kind of runes that weren’t either Anghertas nor Tengwar, being the later what he expected from an elf. Having them in his hands made him sure there would be none who would read them, even if the only ones that could read it besides Ellen herself were her nieces. He folded the papers and stowed them in a pocket of his cloak.  
“So will us all. Let’s wait for darker hours for darker affairs.”  
Kíli lent a hand to Ellen to help her to get up, just out of care, and the other to Balin, out of deference, while a troubled Thorin walked closer to the fire and to Lily, who looked longingly at him. The tired dwarf managed a smile, and kissed her brow before taking the soup bowl she handled him.  
“It was a long day. Have some rest.”  
He shook his head. “Not yet.” Thorin walked somewhat out of the light circle of the camp fire, holding her hand in his, feeling the tension of the day wear out just from being at her side. “How are people faring?”  
At first the dwarf-lass thought it a strange question, but then it was clear; while Thorin was on his kingship duties, it was expected that she would care for his people, or at least to pay attention to them so she could report and help him in what he had to do. To be the companion of a king was not a decorative placing. While he ate, she reported to him the best she could, not having planned to do so beforehand.  
“Bard fears we will stir the dragon and that he cannot do anything to save his people in Lake-Town before the beast comes; me and Iris are learning Iglishmêk with Bifur, I hope you don’t mind; Dwalin scares Ori and Nori and then him plus Óin and Dori laugh at the younglings, but I must say Ori is making impressive drawings of the Lonely Mountain as we approach it; then Glóin and Bombur scare Bilbo and Bofur tries to make amends.”  
“And Fíli?”  
Lily noticed that Thorin counted every member of his Company, and wondered how would it be if it was a mighty army with hundreds or even thousands of dwarves. But she guessed.  
“Fíli is translating Bifur’s lessons to me and Iris.”  
She would not mention that he was also jealous of being out of the former conversation of what he was sure was Erebor back-taking planning.  
“Are you and your sister skilled in warfare?”  
“What?” Lily’s head had been wandering.  
“Warfare. Organizing troops and supplies, strategics, tactics...”  
“Not really.” She lowered her head a bit. “We can fight, as you know, though; you can count on us for anything, ever.”  
Thorin caressed her neck, bringing her closer to him.  
“I am sure, my wild flower. I just wanted to know if I would have you in a meeting I’ll have tonight, or if you go to sleep as the others.”  
“I’d like to be with you in the meeting!”  
“Not this time. Everyone is eager to know our next steps, but there are decisions that have to be made by the ones who are in charge, and who have had training or experience in the matter.”  
“I haven’t been with you all day long...”  
The young dwarf-lass complained; he kissed her ear and nuzzled her neck, making her giggle with his itchy beard on her skin.  
“I will be beside you all night long, I promise; as soon as this meeting ends.” He stood up, elongating his weary arms for some relief. “Now go to your sister, and please call Bilbo; I must talk to him.”  
When Lily was getting close to the fire she witnessed something that her sister would understand only much time later. While making Thorin’s dinner bowl, she thought that Iris and Bilbo were exaggerating a bit they affection demonstrations, albeit she understood only too well how it felt to be all day long apart from the one she loved; they were leaning on a tree trunk almost at the border of the firelight, very silent but for some hushed giggles, and her new dwarvish conservative mind thought it wasn’t quite appropriate for her sister to behave that way and thought to talk to her later.  
Now, when she was going to call the burglar, she saw Ellen, who had just finished her own soup, to glance belligerently at Bilbo, weighing up a spoon in her hand. His eyes grew wide and he instantly sat upright, letting Iris drop from his hands and embracing his knees instead.  
“Hi, Bilbo! Thorin wants to talk to you, there will be a meeting, I deem.”  
He stood up gingerly, thanked her and mumbled something to Iris that made her giggle again before he went to were Thorin was, already surrounded by the Fundinul brothers.  
“Having a little fun, sister?”  
Lily asked Iris to begin the conversation. The hobbit-lass giggled.  
“Oh, my, just a little fun, sister, no harm done to anyone at all!”  
Iris stood up and they two came closer to the fire, where they sat together for a while, enjoying each other’s company in silence; Lily thought better about scolding Iris, as they were going so close to the dragon that the odds were that they would not have any time to enjoy the company of anyone for a long time. Iris asked.  
“Who will we pester tonight?”  
“It must be Óin and Glóin’s turn, I’ll call Bofur and Nori to help us.”  
“Dealt!”

ooo000ooo

Kíli was rubbing Ellen’s back, trying to ease the tension he saw in her troubled look and in the stance of her body, while they waited for everybody to be there; Dwalin was providing a second fire, so they would have light and privacy from the other members of the Company and the human who would guide tem up river the next day; Thorin came closer and spoke quietly, so only them both could hear. The long talk for making the plan spreadsheet all over the day made him see some other things, also.  
“It is really impossible to preview what will happen when we reach Erebor, but I deem it appropriate to thank you for your efforts, lady Ellen; after all, it was your wits that made possible for us to be armed with our weapons of choice and it was your hand in our escape from the elven dungeons.”  
The young dwarf looked up at his uncle, surprised to see his him thanking someone, most of all an _elf_ ; thinking that those weeks in dungeon changed him more than he deemed possible; but Ellen trembled and weaved her head, like if she got a little dizzy for a moment, then lifted a hand, blinking her eyes.  
“I thank you for your acknowledgment, sir, but it is undue. It is truth that I managed to get our arms, but you would have any weapon you wanted from the people of Lake-Town, and the escaping was not my hand, it is not me who you should thank. It was Bilbo’s doing.”  
“You’ve done it together, you both should be thanked.”  
“My king, you’re not understanding.” He looked straight to her, a little unsettled for having the elf addressing him formally. “I remember now, how things should have been, if me and my nieces were not here, how the story was meant to be. Bilbo would have found the trap-doors and have the idea of using the barrels, he would manage to take the keys from Tauriel and free the whole Company. You would get everything you needed from Lake-Town, even weapons. Our coming made not such a difference in all this.”  
Now Thorin and Kíli were both alarmed.  
“What more do you remember?”  
“Is the mind blockage broken?”  
She shook her head.  
“I don’t think so; I just remember about what already happened, I still cannot see what was meant for the future.” She closed her eyes, holding her head in her hands. “Your shield.”  
“What?”  
“Your oakenshield, it would have been lost; Lily took it for you, else it would have been lost when the eagles saved us; Gandalf would have given the final blow into the goblin king, instead of Iris; I cannot remember more meaningful differences, though they may be there.”  
The two dwarves exchanged glances; Thorin spoke quietly.  
“Don’t mention these possible past memories to the others, it can make them nervous, and probably would do no good at all. We may talk about it later.” The elf nodded, agreeing. “But I will thank Bilbo properly, don’t worry.”

ooo000ooo

The meeting went well over two or three hours long, as Ellen explained all alternatives with a meaningful possibility of happening, and the different approaches they could use in each situation. Some sounded absurd at first, and would have been discarded weren’t they in a desperate situation. At least, this report on the scenarios had the gift of opening their minds to face reality, after months of just acting out of unreasonable hope, on behalf of prophecies. Thorin pointed out one of the possible solutions to fend the problem of the dragon’s sense of smell on the place he now knew it was written on the paper sheet, as Fíli scribbled some runes on it while she was talking, and shook his head, emphatic.  
“This, no. No way. It would be ignominious!”  
“Less ignominious than to be munched by a dragon, I deem.”  
“There must be other way to grant our stealth!”  
“I’m waiting for suggestions, my lord.”  
He shook his head and snorted.  
“Let’s see the next topic.”  
Ellen read it down quickly and Fíli ‘runed’ it for the others to be able to re-read it if and when they wanted. It was Balin who brought the answer, though his brother and Thorin probably knew of it too.  
“Yes, there are saltpeter and brimstone veins in Erebor mines, we used to mine it for different uses, and charcoal is easy to get – you will see, Sister, when we get closer to the Lonely Mountain, what I mean.”  
Dwalin was suspicious.  
“Isn’t that black magic? Should we deal with it?”  
“It is pure science, Brother.” Ellen sighed. “Gandalf uses it to produce his fireworks, be at ease.”  
“But he is a wizard, and we are not. And you are not talking about fireworks at all.”  
From what he learnt about Ellen’s world ‘ _science_ ’, he feared it almost as much as the magic of Middle-Earth, but of course he would not give in. Thorin intervened.  
“Metal kegs can be found easily in Erebor, so, this one is feasible. We can discuss the apropriatedness of it later.”  
So they went on item per item, stopping here, going on smoothly there. All Ellen wished by then was a good mug of coffee, but it was an impossible dream, for all she knew.  
“Anyway, we must manage to get Smaug out of Erebor for us to enter, get the things we need and prepare the _surprise party_ for when he comes back.”  
“When we open the Back Door and get in, I can get down to the treasure chamber and entice him.” Offered Bilbo. “ He won’t see me, of course, and I’ll arouse him to get out of the Mountain. Just don’t know how to keep him outside.”  
“We can catch him by his stomach, I fancy.” Fíli suggested. “Not that it is very fair, but we can use the ponies as bait.”  
“What a pity having useful animals to stuff a dragon.”  
The blond dwarf got startled by Bilbo’s complain. “Hey, that is a good idea!”  
“Since when is stuffing a dragon with ponies is a good idea?”  
“Since we can stuff the ponies with _other things_ before they stuff the dragon!”  
He explained his idea, the others gave suggestions, and so this was added to the sheet.  
“Óin and Lily can help us with this, in the morning.” Thorin said, pacing while speaking, to shake the weariness away. “We will expose our plans to the Company only after we depart from the Lake-Town man, I don’t want him to think he can interfere, it is not his business, anyway.”  
Balin tried to lead Thorin to address Lake-Town issue, as they helped them and would be their neighbors if everything ended as they expected.  
“Yes, but we should warn him to have Lake-Town prepared for the worst, so they can escape if something goes wrong.”  
The hobbit worried about those people, too.  
“And if they don’t believe him?”  
Thorin just shook his head.  
“It cannot be helped.”  
“Maybe not, but we can grant him resources to persuade as many as he may, or at least to grant provisions at a safe place.” Offered Ellen.  
“We don’t have resources, all we had was taken by the Mirkwood elves.” Dwalin was righteously angry.  
“I believe this can be mended...” The elf took out her waist wallet with what gold was left after all her purchasing of miscellany things and fruits in Lake-Town; she bought whatever she wanted but there was still a lot. “Here. It may be enough for Bard to convince a lot of people.”  
Kíli was startled by her offering.  
“Ellen, are you giving all your gold away?”  
She nodded.  
“Yes. When we retake Erebor, you will have your share of the treasure and this little money will make no difference at all. If things go wrong, well, I believe I’ll have no need of money in the place I’ll go to, if you take my meaning.”  
“Ellen, I thank you for your offer. It may make amends to those people even before any trouble arises.” Thorin shook his head. “It is hard for a dwarf to understand someone who cares so little for money, though.”  
The elf smiled, taking Kíli’s hand in hers.  
“There’s a song in the place I came from, that explains it quite simply; Iris can sing it better, but in short it says ' _I don’t care too much for money; money can’t buy me love'_.”


	27. Chapter 27 – Black Collar Work (Any blue collar would get black in minutes!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What does all this crap mean?” Bard tilted his head with an inquisitive look.  
> “Hmm, for a more detailed report, ask my elf.”

Lily woke up to the merry song of a thrush; she tried to close her eyes and sleep a little more, but the smell of Thorin’s skin close to her startled her up; the bird sang as if it were talking something to her, and she didn’t understand. Back at her old world, in the middle of a city, there was no place a thrush would think of making a nest to call it his home and, albeit some people did it, neither she nor anybody in her family had the nerve to cage a bird.   
As promised, when the meeting was over Thorin took his sleeping roll and found a place beside her to cuddle her close to him, and now his face was so close to hers that she could see every single hair of his eyelashes in his worried face, sometimes trembling to an unknown dream. His arm lay heavy on Lily’s waist, and she managed to get one hand out of her own sleeping roll and gently touched his disarrayed hair, moving it away from his face; thin wrinkles formed at the corner of his eyes as a slight smile gained his lips; he mumbled something in Khuzdul and tightened his arm around her, bringing Lily closer to him; she caressed his face, his coarse beard, just wishing that moment would last forever. Even asleep, he was more caring than any guy she knew back at her old world and, although being young, she felt she had lost far too a long time with _boys_ when what she needed was a _man_ ; but then, not any man, but a man like him. The thrush sang a little closer, drawing her attention.  
“I could get used to wake up this way.”  
Lily looked back at him, startled by his voice, and smiled; Thorin smiled back at her, his rare and precious smile matching the shine in his eyes.  
“Thrushes are friends to the dwarves since our people came to Erebor; we will have them to wake us up every morning after we take back our home; and then we will not be in separated and rude bed-rolls, but in more proper linen beddings, as suits the queen I’ll have by my side.”  
Lily’s eyes grew wide; their relationship had grown steadily since the scabbard markings, and she felt him trusting more in her abilities and judgment each day even if she was so younger than him; but then it was like his confidence in her made her grow up, his faith that she would be able to do what was right and what was to be done gave her the self confidence needed to accomplish it all. They still had to take Erebor back, and that meant to get rid of a _dragon_ she hadn’t the slightest idea how to deal with, and she knew he was afraid of it too, even if he didn’t assume his fears; but even having yet to face the dragon that cast out his people from the realm that was his by right, he had the courage to mention her as his _queen_. She remembered a stupid boyfriend who sometimes referred to her as just a friend in front of his parents; now she was glad that relationship didn’t thrive. She’d rather be forever in the wild, sleeping in fur bedrolls, at the side of someone who cared for her as if she were a queen, than to be in satin sheets and champaign baths beside someone who was not grown up enough to assume her as a _woman_ , not as a plaything.  
“I don’t care if we are in bed-rolls or in silken sheets, as long as I am with you, be it in mighty halls or in the wild; as long as you are who you are, Thorin, nothing else matters.”  
“But you deserve the best, my wild Lily flower.”  
He caressed her brow with his thumb, changing a hair strand from place.  
“The best is to be with you.”  
He smiled, bringing Lily’s head closer to him and placed a kiss on her forehead.   
“Let us start the day. We have a realm to retake.”  
Most of the Company was already awake or waking up, preparing things for their last boating day. Thorin instructed Óin and Lily of what they would need for their plan and called Bard for a private meeting.  
“Mister Bard, I must concede that your fears might be true. We made plans to get rid of the dragon, but if they go astray, it is possible that Smaug seeks for revenge in Lake-Town, for your people having helped us.”  
“You are going to stir the dragon! It will be the ruin of us all!”  
Bard cursed loudly and Thorin put his hand up, asking for peace.  
“The best scenery is that Smaug is dead, but this is the least probable. In the worst scenery he kills us all and burns Lake-Town too, and that would indeed be a very bad luck. We are betting in the middle chances, and we will make our best to kill the beast. But, if we don’t succeed, or succeed partially, there is a chance that your town will be attacked. If this happens, we count on you that some preventive actions have taken place.”  
“What does all this crap mean?” Bard tilted his head with an inquisitive look.  
“Hmm, for a more detailed report, ask my elf.” Thorin handled him the leather pouch with Ellen’s gold coins. “Convince your people to leave the town and seek for refuge in the borders of the forest because there is a real risk of being attacked; if ever you see fire in the Mountain, go out and leave only a well armed guard; if the Master doesn’t agree, buy as much supply as you can to maintain them, shield as many lives as you can. This is what we have to help you in this right now.”  
Bard took the pouch, suspicious, and looked at its contents, considering that if they had money they would not have needed the Master to provide them things. His eyes grew wide and he looked back at the dwarf.  
“This is enough to...”  
“Yes, mister, so we hope.”

ooo000ooo

They didn’t take the same places in the boats as in the day before, as the plan to make Thorin reason on making plans for Smaug succeeded; Lily exchanged places with Balin, so she could be near the one she missed so much. The river was strong, and the dwarves plus Bard had to strive to win it, but dwarves are known to be a sturdy people, and their _determination_... well, it is mostly called _stubbornness_ by other folk; so, they made it.  
The boats were laden with plants Lily and Óin gathered in the morning, what for the others didn’t know why, only that it was ordered by Thorin himself. They were not in flower, but the whole plant was toxic, some parts more than others, and according to the amount taken in its effects could go from a groggy state to hallucination and death, which was what they hoped against hope. Smaug would have to eat a whole herd of stuffed ponies to be killed by poison, but they would try it anyway.  
“It is a pity it is not the right season for gator-fish roe, else we could fish it.”  
“What do you want with that ugly fish, Lily? I believe we could find more palatable fishes in this river.”  
“Sure, Aunt, but gator-fish roe is deadly poisonous, then I thought we could stuff the ponies with them instead of the plants.”  
“It would be funny to see Smaug not understanding why he ate pony and burped fish!”  
“Yes, but it will be interesting enough too to see him eating pony and burping datura!”  
“Wouldn’t hemlock be better? I thought it were stronger, it was used in antique Rome for executions. Or was it Greece?”  
“Both. It is stronger, but we didn’t find any.”  
Kíli eyed them, warily.   
“Uncle, I suppose it is wise to die being their friends, don’t you think so?”  
Thorin chuckled.  
“I bet my beard! Better have them at our sides than against us!”  
They all laughed a lot, for the first time in days.

ooo000ooo

At mid-afternoon they reached the west margin of the river where the Lake-men were waiting for them with the ponies and supplies. Bard was not quite satisfied with the news that the dragon would actually be arisen, but reckoned it was better to know the risk than to go on blindfold, and thanked them for the information and resources provided. None of the men wanted to wait there, at the borders of the Desolation of Smaug, a minute more than needed, and went at once into the boats to go back home. It could be seen in the eyes of some of them that they pitied the dwarven Company and expected no good outcome of their quest. So close to the Desolation of Smaug, it was easier to believe in a dragon that wasn’t been seen the last sixty years than that the King Under the Mountain had returned.  
The Company organized things to pack what was possible in the ponies the next morning, but, as they would ride, some of the supplies the few Lake-Man brought on a lot of ponies had to be left behind. They stove it in a stone cairn they deftly built, and put a tent atop of it. It was late autumn, but rain was still a chance.  
They were dining the trout Ori, Bilbo, Nori and Glóin had fished along the day and Bombur roasted on the fire pit, along with bread from Lake-Town, nobody in a very good mood after seeing their first glimpse of the Desolation of Smaug. There was no better name for the burned and charred land, miles around the Mountain they yearned for. As soon as the sun set, the fire would be put down, so that it would not be visible in the distance. None knew if, how or when the dragon could spot them and end their quest with a single fire breath.  
Balin showed Ellen the charcoal he mentioned the other day that would be easy to find, and she agreed, calling Iris to evaluate the remnants of the leafy forest that surrounded Erebor long decades ago. It was time for technical issues, and having none of the Lake-People around meant Thorin would probably call for a meeting still that night; the elf wanted to have some answers that weren’t possible to get before they got there.   
“Are you sure it will work?” Asked the old dwarf.  
“Of course I am... not! That’s why we have alternative plans, Little Brother. Now, do you think we can powder it easily? And what do you think about powdering the saltpeter and brimstone you mentioned we can find in Erebor?”  
“Well, we can make a try tomorrow about the charcoal. About saltpeter and brimstone, I remember where their veins are, but better than this, I remember where they were stored after being mined, ready to cart. You see, both saltpeter and brimstone are used by farmers, and by healers, but farmers use a bigger amount, and Erebor sold it at a nice price. I don’t know if the stores will be quite powdered, as they can have been turned to stone again along the years, but since they were powdered once it would be easier to grind them, I deem. How much do we need of them?”  
It was Iris who had the answer.   
“The proportion is two brimstone to three charcoal and fifteen saltpeter. Gladly, we won’t have to carry so much charcoal to Erebor, and even there it looks like it will be easy to find, I’m sorry to say.”  
The hobbit-lass saw Balin’s disturbed look, but there was not much to be done. They headed back to the camp for the night meeting.  
It brought some doubts, a lot of complaints and a couple of good suggestions. The main problem was the doubt about if they would be able to find the Back Door at all, but Bilbo was sure they would.  
“The moon-runes are quite clear, ' _Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole._ ' We just have to find the grey stone and sat at the doorstep waiting for Durin’s Day last light. There is even a rune in the map showing where the grey stone must be.”  
“But will we be able to get to this gray stone at all?” Someone asked.  
“If my grandfather was able to get away from it, we are bound to be able to get to it.” Thorin made clear he would concede to no complaints.  
“How long is it until Durin’s Day?” It was Lily’s turn to ask, and her healing arts master Óin who explained.  
“It is quite simple. Our New Years Day is the first day of the last New Moon in Autumn, being that each season has its perfect middle at the solstice or equinox; so, our New Year begins somewhere between October the seventh and November the sixth, and Durin’s Day occurs when the New Moon can be seen in the sky along with the setting sun of the New Years Day.”  
Ellen thought, ‘ _Why to do it simple if you can complicate it_?’ but kept it to herself and looked at the sky, like many others.   
“We departed from Lake-Town October the sixth, and the moon is at his full now, so it leaves us a little more than two weeks to get to Erebor, find the Door, wait for it to show itself and get into the Mountain.” Stated orderly Dori. Ori could be the one to write things down, but his older brother was the one who kept track or every bit of data he got. The elf loved him for this.  
“Now that we have the tasks set, we must define who will take charge of which. I hope for volunteers, according to each ones abilities.”  
They divided themselves in teams for the future duties, and settled for the night, in no mood for laughing and singing being so close to the Desolation. 

ooo000ooo

Next day they rode to the Mountain, hearts heavy with the feeling that the dead earth beneath their feet had been a green forest and now it was almost a desert, save for a little grass and some underbrush. They made it fairly in time to camp in the western side of the southern spur and Thorin sent a small scouting expedition to spy where the Front Gate stood.  
Balin chose the burglar, for obvious reasons, and Fíli and Kíli, for their good sight, or at least that was his excuse. If he were really worried about good sight he would have chosen the elf and the other hobbit amongst them. What he really wanted was to be the first to show that vision of the ancient glory of that dwarven realm to the Durin’s heirs.  
The rest of the Company settled the camp with care, as they didn’t know how many days they would be there. Bofur, Dori, Iris, Ellen and Dwalin went to gather burned stumps of the once upon a time Erebor’s forest and begun to grind it to a fine powder, being the first day Charcoal Team, while Glóin and Óin set the supplies in a logical way and Bombur managed to cook without fire. They would eat only cold meals as long as there would be a chance of Smaug spotting them for the fire light. With mid-day sunlight he would be able to even warm something, but with the setting sun he only hydrated and seasoned stuff. The remaining fish from the last dinner had been eaten at lunch.  
Ellen managed to get a burlap sac after the Groinul brothers unpacked some of the provisions that would be used in a short time and used it to put the charcoal in and made her horse to tread on it several times. The result was not the fine powder they wanted, but reduced the time she and the rest of the Charcoal Team needed to get it that fine. They chatted as they worked, to make the time run faster and distract them of the boring task.  
“Over here, up in this mountain spur, is a spot called Ravenhill.” Dwalin explained, as from that team only Dori had lived in Erebor who was old enough to remember anything. “It was a watch-post of old, but it is too exposed for us to try to climb it.”  
“Does it have a way into the Mountain?”  
“Aye, no. Else, it would be a weak spot to enter Erebor, that could be used by any enemy. There are some watch posts around the Mountain, all impossible to reach from outside if you have no wings, but Ravenhill is only reached from the outside.”  
“I wish I were a skilled alpinist with all equipment required to climb this mountain, so we could get in through the watch posts!” Complained Iris.  
“But then, dear, if we were skilled and equipped alpinists we would have climbed back that cliff we slid down, and we would never even perceive we came to Middle-Earth.” Ellen philosophized, and added with a smile. “After all we have been through, I don’t regret that fall.”  
“Don’t you miss what you left behind, ladies?” Dori was always a gentleman.  
Iris spurted out. “I miss Father and my friends at high-school and my singing classes and my computer and my internet and the shopping center and to watch movies and the microwave oven and most of all I miss a good electrical shower bath.” She stopped to catch her breath and concluded. “But I’m happy here.”  
“It is a lot of things to miss, little friend.” Bofur added while delivering a portion of powdered charcoal to the secluded corner of the stone wall they deemed would be safer from wind, and covered the mound again with a spare tent. “And a long time missing them, already.”  
The hobbit shuffled on her feet, getting more charcoal to grind.   
“I am happy here, Bofur, I’ve found friends and adventure like I’d never find back at Earth, and even...” She swallowed down whatever word she was about to say. “I’ve even found me a couple of brothers, who would dream of that?”  
Dwalin and Ellen exchanged knowing glances; the elf could be proportionally younger than the dwarf, but still was an adult, and her niece was a teenager, to all accounts. The girl’s mixed feelings were clear to them. Being member of the Company gave her a freedom she never had in her former world, but then, she took on responsibilities she never took on Earth. She had not yet got into her mind that the freedom she enjoyed was due to her compromise to what she was living for, and not the opposite. The elf tried to lighten up the spirits.  
“I didn’t, and I found me a couple of brothers too!” She elbowed Dwalin’s chest to make her statement clear; the dwarf whacked her neck in return; she uplifted her arm to hit his forehead with the back of her hand and he ended the mock struggle jostling her onto the charcoal pile. Bofur didn’t let the subject cool down.  
“But don’t you miss your world, Ellen? You keep thinking like you were there, you speak weird things of yonder that you yourself have to translate for us; isn’t it missing it?”  
She thought for a little while, grinding the charcoal. Her answer came quiet but unwavering.  
“I may be wrong, but I don’t thing so; I just do not _pretend_ that I’m born to Middle-Earth and never knew anything else, or that this is my natural habitat; I believe it would be self-deception.” She looked at her charcoal black hands and smiled mischievously at her friends. “A good nail polish and a lipstick would cherish me up, for sure!” Iris laughed, the only one understanding what she meant. “I could miss some convenience, some easiness in to communicate with people far away, and to travel, and I thank Mahal and Varda I’ve never had the need for more developed medicine and science as a whole; it scares me to have a bacterial infection and die from a stupid thing like pneumonia or diarrhea or appendicitis, not having anesthesia to stitch a wound if needed, and ways to mend a tooth cavity.”  
The elf shoveled her portion of powdered charcoal to Bofur and got more to grind.   
“But I don’t miss getting stuck in car traffic, working sixty hour per week locked in an office tower, wearing high heels and tailleur for a meeting when what I need to accomplish what is expected from me was right between my ears, nowhere else.”  
“All right, all right, I don’t want to know more about these torture things, Ellen. You don’t ever come close to me with high heels of traffic towers, understood?”  
Bofur was a sweetie. Ellen giggled and Dwalin begun the rite of elbowing, whacking, hitting and jostling. The children of Fundin were playful, in their own way, not always understood by other people. Ellen was at ease, as she herself was not always understood by people in her former world.  
The scouts came back, tired. Balin had made them return when they reached a place where from they could see the dark opening where from River Running waters fell, a dark hole open in the Mountain side like a foul mouth, for that was the opening Smaug made to wander in and out of Erebor after he first got in. Balin didn’t like the steam and dark smoke that came out from it, and deemed some crows he saw as a sign of evil spies and wills. The Charcoal Team took their return as a sign that they should get a bath to get all that charcoal out of their skins, at least to have a decent dinner, mostly after Kíli’s teasing at Ellen.  
“I’ve heard that there were dark elves, but didn’t think you were one of them!”  
“I’ll show you who is the dark elf!” And then she ran after him, trying to smear him with her charcoal black hands, to everyone’s laughter.  
They were not close to any ordinary river, but they had snow melting water from the top of the mountain, and even not having it warmed some soap that the women bought at Lake-Town made it easier to wash away the black dust.   
Next day they began the boresome task of scouting for the gray stone. Bombur was left at the camp, drying Óin’s plants as he ordered, and the others toiled in parties of three, searching for possible paths, always worried that Smaug could be atop of the Mountain spying them. They ended the day weary and low spirited, except for Bilbo. He had had a good view of the lay of the land, and asked for Thorin’s map to study it, which he did as long as there was light enough.  
“I’d bet a tuna can we can have more luck moving to this vale behind that spur, it is the closest to where the rune is marked.”  
“Also, it is further from the Front Gate, and so we might be more secluded from Smaug if he ever gets out of its lair.” Thorin added, agreeing to the move. “We should scout this vale before a move, though.”  
“We can ride there in the morrow and evaluate it.” Balin offered. “I’ll take my brother and sister along.”  
“Good.” Thorin nodded. “Some of the others can go back to the river and bring the supplies we left there.”   
His look at his nephews meant who were the _others_ he was thinking about, and they immediately offered to go, as well as Iris and Dori.  
“You are too tiny to help to carry things, Iris!” Fíli teased her.  
“But it is the ponies who will carry things, brother, I’ll just help to pack them and keep you both out of trouble.”  
“Iris, would you please make me a favor when you are there close to the river?” The hobbit nodded to Óin. “We will need that large leaves of the yam that grows there. Bring as much as you can.”  
Thorin agreed to the team that would go and it was settled. The remaining crew would keep searching for a path to the grey stone and grinding charcoal.

ooo000ooo

The scouting was done, the supplies where brought directly to the new camp, and the days passed without success in the search. As a good burglar, it was Bilbo who found the rough steps that led to a narrow track and then to a steep-walled bay, in whose inner end a flat wall rose, upright and smooth as only a dwarf could set a stone. In the middle of the grass patch before it there was a flat square stone, and it was _grey_.


	28. Chapter 28 – Stuffed Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Has a cat eaten your tongue, smelly? I can eat more than your tongue if you don’t have better manners than to enter my home and hide as a rat. Have you come to steal my property?”

The Company was excited with the news Bilbo, Fíli and Kíli brought from their search, uplifting moods and making they chatter like a bunch of teenagers. They explained the path was narrow and difficult to make, but after all they got through since departing from the Blue Mountains no dwarf was scared of a little risk. All of them spoke at once, figuring out who would do what and when.  
“It is right above this camp, we only cannot see it because there’s an overhang in the cliff. The bay is large enough for us to move our camp there to, except for the ponies.”  
“We will see it in the morrow. How long is it until New Years Day?”  
“Not much time left, I deem. The moon has almost waned.”  
“So, we have to move the camp and haul up the charcoal in the burlap sacs that are empty.”  
“Óin’s plants are already incased, we leave them down here.”  
“Someone must stay to keep the ponies.”  
“I’ll stay!” Bombur offered. “I don’t know if the path is broad enough for me to tread along it.”  
“You will have to get to the bay sooner or later, Bombur. When Smaug is stirred no one will be safe outside the Mountain.”  
“I’ll keep the ponies as long as needed, in the meanwhile we think about how to get me there.”  
“All right, but remember there will be no other way than to get to the bay.”  
They slept in a better mood than they had in several days, albeit the cold of the upcoming winter and the lack of a fire to warm their bodies, food and souls. They were almost there. Almost home.  
Next day they managed to makeshift sheave with Óin’s staff and a tin mug they took the bottom off and molded to have a groove in its middle for the rope to slide along it. With this they could haul the supplies much faster than carrying them all way up, which took some hours because of the winding trail, and was safer, because the narrow ledge was skipped.  
Bilbo was exempt from any other duty than to stay close to the gray stone (the “doorstep” as they said after his words in Bag-End, an age ago), and think of a way to get in; although, he was sure it was just a matter of time, of waiting until the sun light of Durin’s Day showed the Back Door, and he kept Thorin close to him, just in case. It was so easier for him than he thought would be when Gandalf and the dwarves came to his home, because now they had plans, and second plans if the first choice plans got wrong, and he had not to think about everything himself alone, as he felt the dwarves expected from him in the beginning, although he knew Thorin and some others didn’t quite believe in his competence by then. Actually, he didn’t either.  
The hobbit waited patiently, ignoring Iris’ endless chatting while caressing her hair in his lap and looking from the stone wall to the west, and from the west to the stone wall. Thorin was quiet, too, explaining little details of dwarven lore, culture and history to Lily, who grabbed every bit of information and associated it to the knowledge she already had, to reinforce it. Bilbo envied their seemingly smooth relationship, but then Lily was a bit older than her sister, and Thorin had a way of dealing with people that Bilbo simply didn’t. Maybe it was what people called _kingship_. Iris was special to him, but sometimes he felt himself just a big ear, someone to hear her uneven chatting; there were pearls in what she said, but sometimes he had a feeling that she just needed someone to pay her attention. He could not remember if he ever had been this way in his betweens, and surely none who was that way kept close to him time enough time for him to get used to it. But how to explain this without hurting her feelings? Albeit all this, she was more than he could expect from any Shire girl, and he knew it.  
The sun was setting. An almost black thrush flew down to the square stone with a snail in its beak and knocked it to the stone, startling Bilbo. He saw the direction the setting sun light took, and how it got almost between a stone fork the hobbit noticed when the thrush came down.  
“Thorin!”  
The dwarf looked at him, startled, and Lily sat up, eager to see what was happening.  
“Where is your key? Get the key, we might be on the edge of time!”  
Thorin got it from a gold chain around his neck, trembling. He motioned something to Lily and she and Iris went at once to call the Company. Bilbo simply didn’t get acquainted with the dwarves’ sign language and shook his head. The sun sunk lower until it was enshrouded by a red belt of clouds. The thin, almost indistinguishable line of the new moon made its way into the horizon; evening was coming. They spirits sunk into their boots with the setting sun, for there was no means to grant they keyhole could be found if the sun didn’t shine on it exactly that day. Then a distant wind made its way through the clouds, and a thin red gleam of sunlight came and shone upon the rock face. The Company held their breath.  
The thrush eyed the dwarves stepping on his snail-banging rock and sang for some seconds, in protest; a small flake of rock split from the wall and fell, with a loud crack. About three feet from the ground a hole appeared, slightly lined with a shine that wasn’t quite earthly. Thorin run for it and stuck the key in the hole. At the same moment the dwarf king turned the key, the sun sank and the moon was gone, but in front of them a thin silvery line draw a door, five feet high and three broad, as was written in Thrór’s map. The closer dwarves helped to push, and without a sound the door swung inwards, revealing them a dark tunnel into the heart of the Mountain.

ooo000ooo

Some of them wanted to hastily lit a torch to get in and not to stumble on anything, as they felt sure inside the tunnel Smaug would not have knowledge of their presence, but Balin reminded them of the dragon’s sense of smell, that gave them lots of headaches while planning the retake of Erebor. They waited for their eyes to adjust to the complete darkness and advanced carefully. Thorin was tense, but would rather die than show. They felt the walls, roof and floor, and knew it was a perfect rectangle where the hobbits could walk at ease, most of the dwarves would have no problem at all and the elf would have to stoop to walk in.  
“It is still early night, what is the next move?” Dwalin asked Thorin, while they stepped out again, propping the door open with a small boulder and sitting in a tight circle. Everyone wanted to hear what their king had to say, but he only rehearsed what they already had planned.  
“We must be rested to make everything that must be done in time to take Smaug by surprise, so there is no reason to hurry. We will get all our stuff inside the Door, this can be done in silence, and someone goes warn Bombur of what we found. We sleep this night after the stuff is put away.”  
“I go warn my brother!” Offered Bofur, to what Thorin nodded.  
“You stay by him and tomorrow morning you both feed the ponies Óin’s stuff, mind you that they must eat the packs whole, not munch on it, and then we haul you both up with the rope. In the meanwhile our burglar will get in and stir the dragon for it to get out of the Mountain and eat the ponies; as soon as we have a sign that Smaug is aroused we hurry in, and down the tunnel, one member of each team carrying a charcoal sac. Then we divide to conquer, whatever our elf means with this, in the five preset teams.” Thorin called each team, one’s name and the team target. “Blue Ant Team. This is me, Ori, Nori and Fíli; we will find the kegs and take them to the saltpeter and brimstone stores to use them to transport it; Grey Leppard Team are Dori, Dwalin, Glóin, Kíli and Bombur, who are to find the saltpeter and regrind it if needed; Yellow Eagle Team are Balin and Lily, who are to find and regrind the brimstone, this team is only of two because we will need much less brimstone than saltpeter, if Iris’ measures are right, which we all hope; Black Buzzard Team are Óin, Bofur and Bifur, who have the most disgusting of the tasks, to find Smaug’s toilet; and Red Jackdaw team, who are Bilbo, Iris and Ellen, who will make their best and fastest to keep all of us informed of what is happening with the other teams. Remember to put on your worst clothes tomorrow, we’ll possibly never be able to use them again; metal armor can be cleansed, though.”  
Instinctively the members of each team gathered together, eyeing the other teams to acknowledge who they were and what they would be doing the next day; and, in the deep of their hearts, hoping against hope that they would all end the day alive. They were on their own, no wizard nor any other help to count on, and a living dragon which destroyed their realm and the human town close to it more than a century ago. 

ooo000ooo

After dining and moving their stuff inside the tunnel, Kíli and Ellen managed to runaway a bit on themselves, as from the bay there was a path that led uphill a little while. They knew for a long time that this moment would come, when the actual struggle against Smaug would be at hand, so this was the last night they were sure each other was alive, and they knew not for how long. The stars shone wild in the dark night, as they lay on their backs on the bare hill, hand in hand. He broke the silence.  
“Are you scared?”  
Ellen took a moment to answer.   
“I am.” She sighed. “I’d rather face a whole shareholders board to announce a bankruptcy than to face what we have to tomorrow.”  
“We will not even be on the same team.” He was annoyed.  
“Maybe it is better this way, we could get distracted if seeing the other at risk. But I’ll be running all over the place, we will be able to see each other a bit, I deem. And when things are ready we will all be in the hoard waiting for our prey. And you?”  
“Me what?”  
“Are you scared?”  
Kíli took in a deep breath.  
“I am not supposed to be. I am a Durin’s heir.”  
“Put your masks down, it is just you and me.”   
She changed a hair strand from place on his forehead. He rolled on his side and caressed her face with a finger, his emerald eyes dark with worry.   
“I’m afraid. I’m afraid we will die, and our souls will never meet again because we haven’t had a Compromise Speech and I’m a dwarf and you are an elf; I’m afraid you will die and I’ll suffer night and day like I know Mother suffers in silence since Father died; I’m afraid I will die and you will find another one, because you are not a dwarf, you are not bound to love only once in life.”  
“Don’t you trust my dwarven-heart, Kíli son of Dís?” She reached for his hair and run her fingers through them. “I swear by the stars of Varda that shine upon us, that it is you and only you that I love, and no one else will ever take your place, that was forged into my heart.”  
Kíli leaned down and kissed her, hungry.   
“I wish I already had my First Time with you.”  
“We didn’t find a way in Lake-Town, where we had even sleeping rooms, what to say of having a chance in the wild?” The elf sighed. “Yep, one more kick for us to try to stay alive tomorrow!”  
Then it hit her. He said ‘ _my_ First Time’, not ‘ _our_ First Time’. It explained a lot that didn’t fit before. Ellen realized she was dealing with a seventy-seven years old _virgin_! She had to be sure.  
“Kíli, do you mean... your First Time... _ever_?”  
He blinked, shyly, with half a smile on the corner of his lips. One of the things that made Kíli so appealing to Ellen was exactly that look of innocence, albeit all he could show himself mischievous and cheeky when he wanted, and the dwarf knew exactly what to do to make her want more. Now the elf knew it was not just the look. She caressed his stumble of beard and he looked down at her.  
“Kíli?”  
“I tried to tell you, but you said it was ' _not completely different_ ', and you were so angry...”  
Ellen was ashamed now for that day before Mirkwood.  
“I’m sorry, I...”  
“You don’t have to apologize. It doesn’t matter anymore, I’m over it.”  
“I thought...”  
“I know what you thought. That I was like most male are. But this is serious matter to me. It is not because I know how to kiss you and to touch you that you can judge me as if I would spend my seed with someone less than fit to bear an heir to Durin’s line. One that did not chose me. ”  
He laid himself down again, hands under his head, looking at the stars.  
“And now we are hours from fighting a dragon and only Mahal knows if we will be alive at the end of the day.”  
She propped herself up on one elbow and send him an apologetic gaze.  
“Kíli...are you angry at me?”  
He chuckled.  
“If I should be angry at anyone, it would be at your brothers, resolute in keep your chastity safe from me.”   
The elf sat up and looked at him, a mischievous smile in her lips.  
“Kíli, do you think we have time?”  
“Time for what?”  
“To... _do something_... before my watchdog brothers come looking for us?”  
His eyes grew wide.  
“What... but where? How? When?”  
“Here, now! We can be creative, don’t you think so?”  
The dwarf sat up, bustling.  
“Are you crazy?”  
The elf pushed him down to the ground, laughingly.  
“Gotcha!”  
“Wait! I’ll take a _security measure_ , as you say.”  
Kíli sat and joined his hands in front of his mouth and sent out a hoot that reminded Ellen of an owl with hiccups. A similar sound answered from not very far away.  
“What’s this?”  
He looked at her with the mischievous smile she was used to.  
“I asked Fíli to warn us if any _watchdog_ comes looking for us. Me and my brother have our own whistle codes.”  
“And now...”  
He held her closer, reaching for her warm skin under her loose chemise, making her ear prickle with his stumble beard as he whispered, his voice hoarse.  
“Now we hurry with what should be done slowly, if you swear you really want it, because I don’t want to hurt you but I don’t know how much I can refrain myself.”  
The elf shivered, and it was not from the cold. Her hands run his body over his clothes, feeling his tough muscles and more under her fingers, her voice betraying her urgency, glazed eyes shining dangerously at him.  
“You won’t hurt me, silly; just take me! I have waited for you for so long...”  
His hands stopped for a moment and then Kíli gazed deep into her eyes; a bit of jealousy twinkled in dark green and then was gone, replaced with a slight smile.  
“One can always take advantage in what seemed to be a disservice...”  
Even lacking experience, Kíli knew exactly what to do to her, and a delighted Ellen found out their difference in height didn’t matter at all regarding _other measures_ ; actually, she felt as if her long time _out of business_ was reflecting itself as if her elven body was renewed to an ‘ _almost no business done_ ’ state, and she felt him fit her perfectly, the dark haired dwarf claiming her as his own in a way no one ever had done to her. She bit her lower lip muffling a moan and he stopped, frowning.  
“What is wrong? Are you fine?”  
“I _was_ fine, but you just put me on _murder mode_!” Complained the elf.  
“What do you mean?”  
“If you dare to stop again, I’ll kill you!”  
It was an occasion of too much clothes and too little time, but plenty of hankering and desire, and the young couple was soon over it, panting hard and yearning for more. Kíli run his fingers through Ellen’s hair, smiling, a different shine in his eyes.  
“Now I’m ready to kill a dragon!”  
Fíli whistled like a drunken thrush and they hurried to pull up their pants and straighten their clothes before heading back to the camp, satisfied smiles in their faces. If they survived Smaug, they’d find out ways to fool the watchdogs again make things _very slowly_ next time.

ooo000ooo

Smaug couldn’t remember how long he had slept, as time was not a matter for him anymore. Being the oldest, not to say the last and only one of his race, gave him the leisure to skip thinking about banal things like _time_. Actually, he was in no need to think about anything at all since he found that comfortable gold bed he enjoyed so much, and he could sleep at will between one and another meal, that could stand decades one from the other.  
But then a distant noise disturbed his dreams of greed and violence, and an eye fluttered open. There was nothing to be seen, but there was a smell, yes, a smell he didn’t know before. He sought for the source of the smell, and could see nothing; but it was there, yes, as sure as his bed was made of gold. He eyed the main and only entrance of his lair, large enough for him to pass after he made some reconstruction to fit it to his size, but there was nothing to be seen, and he could not smell anything coming that way, either. Where from that smell could be coming?  
A slight gust of fresh air reminded him of the small hole in the wall, that he didn’t bother to close for its insignificance. The smell came from that direction, he was sure. Smaug sniffed and spoke.  
“No need to hide, smelly thing, I know you are there.”  
Of course he didn’t speak in any ordinary form, but more like what Bilbo felt with Galadriel in Imladris; only that she just looked into his mind, and Smaug _spoke_ into it. He got scared, with a lot of reason. But then, that’s what he was there to, to stir the dragon, and stir the dragon he would, even if right now he was so scared that he couldn’t utter a word.  
“Has a cat eaten your tongue, smelly? I can eat more than your tongue if you don’t have better manners than to enter my home and hide as a rat. Have you come to steal my property?”  
“I...” Bilbo stammered. “I came to see if the legends are true, o Smaug the Great Calamity!”  
“Ah, so you have tongue to speak, huh?” He was amused for having got his prey to speak. “And what legends do you refer, smelly?”  
“The legends of your magnificent waistcoat of fine diamonds and gems; words run that thou art the most astounding of the dragons of all times, and the wealthiest.”  
It was always good to cajole a great worm; at least it amused him and made him less ready to incinerate anyone. It was working.   
“The legends are true, smelly, as you can see by yourself.”  
Smaug spread out his wings to show his chest and belly, really astoundingly covered with gold and precious gems. Bilbo noticed a small patch on his left upper chest where some stones were missing, either for not having been attached yet or for having fallen in Smaug’s sleep; it didn’t matter, it was a weak spot nonetheless.  
“Now, smelly, you know a lot about me, and I don’t know even your name, nor where you came from. It would be only fair to let me know a bit about you.”  
Bilbo was not a fool, albeit never having handled a dragon personally, and he knew better than to expose himself and the rest of the Company.   
“I came from faraway, from over hill and under hill, from forest and from river, and through the air!”  
“It is a lot to come from, but this doesn’t tell me your name. Who are you, smelly? Or am I to call you “Smelly” until I eat you?”  
“No need to eat me, o Smaug the Tremendous! I’d be nothing but a little nuisance to your mighty jaws, not worthy to be munched by your sword sharp teeth!”  
“But you disturbed my sleep, Smelly, and now I’m inclined to have a meal. Say your name, I like to know who I’m eating!”  
The pressure of Smaug’s words inside Bilbo’s head was pounding, and the hobbit knew he had to do something fast.  
“To eat me you will have to catch me first, o Smaug the Mighty, and the hooves I’m upon are faster than Rhosgobel rabbits!”  
The pounding eased a bit, mixed with doubt. Bilbo let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.   
“Fast hooves, hmm? We will see if you will be fast after I eat the owner of the hooves, mister Smelly!”  
With that the dragon headed for his passageway and left the hoard, not before sending a mighty spout of fire in the direction of the small hole. Bilbo ran, but not fast enough not to get scorched a bit, and it took a long time after his adventure for the hair on the back of his head and heels to grow again. Anyway, they were succeeding, and Bilbo found the Company heading down the tunnel as planned.

ooo000ooo

Smaug was completely annoyed. It was unpleasant enough to have some smelly thing visiting his hoard with no inviting, and then he couldn’t even see the smelly thing; he should have taken care of that rat hole ages ago. He made his way to the front Gate of Erebor and flew to the opening he made above the balcony for his convenience. Then he flew high and circled the mountain somewhat bellow the snow level, as it was unlikely that any horse would ride that high, and it gave him a good view of the surroundings. He spotted his prey.  
To his surprise, it was not only one horse, but a horse and several ponies along. They must have been loosely tied up, as they broke into a run easily when they heard his thunderous wings approaching. That meant that Smelly fellow was not alone, no lone thief needed a whole herd of ponies to steal his treasure, albeit it would be needed much more than that much of ponies to carry even a small amount of his possessions. Anyway, he would eat the horse and ponies for lunch and _Smelly_ as dessert.  
It took him not long to complete his slaughter, and felt a bit heavy for that amount of horsemeat warming up his belly, as he flew back to his favorite spot on the south-east spur of the mountain to watch a bit. It was a nice morning to eat ponies, and Smaug felt a good draught of river water would do him good; sometimes he even had some fish along with the water. He flew down to the River Running bank and drank what he wanted, chuckling when a fish shook its tail against his throat. Smaug burped.  
Funny, he didn’t remember eating pony and burping salad before. Actually, he _never_ ate salad before. His stomach seemed to be going unsettled; better go back home. _Smelly_ would not go far without his horse, and it would be a nice chase; he didn’t enjoy himself that much since he took Erebor from the dwarves. Dwarves. It could be good to eat dwarf again, it had been so long, but where to find dwarf to eat? They were not nice guys, they’ve gone away and never came back to play with him again. Not nice, not nice dwarves at all.  
Smaug left the ground to reach the entrance above the Gate and his right wing bumped into the dwarven figure carving, splintering some stone flakes to the ground several yards below. Funny, he didn’t remember when he hit something unwillingly before. He descended a bit further from the Gate and walked slowly to his den. The salad was not doing good to him, he was sure. Now, where could _Smelly_ be? If he was inside his house, he would roast him a little before eating him. Just to improve the taste.  
But this could wait, right now he was sleepy, and his gold bed was calling for him, and he should not have eaten all those ponies in just one meal. Now it was too late, and Smaug burped salad again, to his disgust, while getting so sleepy he had doubled sight, and stumbled into his den like a drunken lizard. He farted loudly, and laughed at his own sound. The hoard would be smelly for days, but he was not able to worry about it right then. Time to close that rat hole before another smelly one came out of it. He headed for the far wall, stumbling on a metal barrel. Where did that keg come from? Smaug sniffled at it but all that he could smell was his own fart. Disgusting.  
Another try for the wall and something got the corner of his eye, a small movement, no more than a glimpse of a fluttering bat behind a gold pile a hundred yards away. He blinked to try to better his doubled sight and a fly bit him. A fly, it could only be a fly that hit his eye, and he tried to rub the injured eye with his front paw, doing more harm than good. At least he had no more double sight, because only his other eye was working properly. Unfortunately, another fly stuck into his nostril, making him sneeze. It was getting awkward enough for him to perceive something strange was going on. Where were that flies coming from? He guessed.  
“Smelly! Smelly, come out here where I can smell you properly!”  
His head was dizzy, but the pain in his eye and nostril awakened him a bit. He noticed more kegs around him, and they smelled... his own dung? What was his dung doing in his bedroom? Too little kegs for him to take them in his paws and carry away, it would be better to deal with that absurd _dragon style_ , as incineration was always an option. He took in a deep breath and fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank all my dozen readers for your continued support, and we reached the 300 hits mark, it makes my day!  
> Monday, we'll see what happens when our dwarves meet a drunken dragon!  
> Untill then, wold you mind to comment?


	29. Chapter 29 – Nobody Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you have to tell us, noble Roäc?”  
> “The birds are coming back to live in the Lonely Mountain; the fire-breathing beast is no more.”  
> “What do you mean? Speak clearly, bird!”  
> “It has always been easy to make a dwarf to lose his temper, my father told me, but I couldn’t imagine it would take just one phrase to turn from “noble Roäc” to “bird”!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra chapter today, just because Wolfish Pennings liked the poisoned dragon! ;)

Not all of the gunpowder kegs exploded as the Company wished, nor did they explode with all the might expected, but it was enough to damage Smaug’s eardrums and make him more instable; a lot of his chest diamond coat fell down also, exposing more of his soft underbelly, already wounded by some keg scraps, and for the first time he could remember, Smaug really felt _pain_.  
Having hid behind the larger treasure piles and stone pillars showed itself the best the Company could have done to avoid being collateral of their own explosive attack. Smaug was confused, momentarily vulnerable, and they seized that chance to destroy him. Each warrior made his best to reach him and have his share of slaying, even at the risk of getting hurt. The dragon was completely confused, as he felt no smell besides his own dung filth and could see nothing with one eye and blurred images with the other; he tried to figure out what was all that about so he could at least take what revenge he still could. His disturbed body burped salad again, and Smaug thought of the ponies. He didn’t know the smell of Smelly, but he knew the smell from where the ponies had come. Lake-Town.  
He roared in his anger and slowly tried to make his way to the passage to get away from there and from those stupid warriors. They could steal his hoard, maybe, but they would have nowhere to go back home, he would grant it. Thorin was closest to the passage when the dragon came, and his heavy steps unbalanced the gold mould he was upon, making him sway and lose the grip on Orcrist, which fell and slid away on the pile of gold; he saw the elf close by and shouted.  
“Ellen, _Lócënehtar_!”  
The elf saw what happened and ran to him; she was no match for Smaug’s steps, even if he was slower than normal, but managed to reach her sword to the dwarf with a cry.  
“At your service!”  
Thorin took its wide handle in both hands to use it as mounting sword and ran, wielding the sword as a spear and stuck it deep in dragon’s belly, then rolled to his side to avoid the dragon’s backstab. Fíli managed to pull Thorin from out of the firebreath range just in time. Smaug got away.  
It was hard for them to hold Thorin, who wanted to go after him, and managed it only because they saw that Smaug was taking small flights to get away from them faster.  
“He is gone!” Was Balin’s relieved sigh.  
“But he is not dead.” Replied Thorin darkly.  
“But he is poisoned and wounded. He may die yet.”  
“We cannot count on this. We must make for the Front Gate and set watch. He can be back at any moment.” Thorin turned to his companions. “Anybody hurt? Scorched?”  
Iris complaining voice came quietly to him.  
“No, just filthy, filthy, filthy, I never felt so filthy in my whole life!”  
Everybody laughed. They were all filthy, like they never dreamed of ever be, but yes, it was better to smell dragon dung than to be smelled, found and munched by one. His complete disorientation after he lost one eye and could smell nothing that was not himself granted them what success they had, plus the poisoning by datura. It was a pity having lost the ponies, but they would have been lost anyway if Smaug got them, so at least their death served a good purpose.  
“We make for the Gate, set watch and see if it is already time to wash. I don’t want Smaug to come back and smell dwarf, let us keep him confused as long as we may.” Thorin looked at his loyal companions, willing to follow him into the very claws of a dragon. “We can wash our faces and hands, at least; we will go up until the spring of River Running, and from there to the Gate.”

ooo000ooo

Thorin indeed knew every passage and every turn of the palace, and they paced behind him with the aid of the cleverly spread out light Erebor’s architecture provided. They finally made it. They were inside Erebor, and the dragon was gone for good. They would have to be alert, but now they knew he was defeasible, and he was hurt.  
Now the women could understand what it really meant when they heard someone say ‘mighty halls’. Everything was huge, impressive, majestic.  
The main hall got light from the wide and high main windows above the gates. This light was spread by the clever use of mirrors and crystals, making it unnecessary to light a single candle along the day. The houses, manufactories and stores had no roof, for it was not needed to keep off the rain, and used the widespread light as well. In the dwellings, the bedrooms used to have articulated roofs, for darkness to sleep and for privacy’s sake. Where the main windows’ lights could not reach, funnels were made so as to bring light in, using the same mirror and crystal devices. At night, or in cloudy days, series of candles were lit so as to use the same system. In addition to be masters of stone and metal, the dwarves were masters in _optics_.   
Everything was covered with far too many years of dust, and the Company was thinking about to camp just like if they were doing out in the open. But there was far too much dirt, light dust that spread out in clouds when they walked.  
It was a long and weary walk, as the adrenaline level lowered in their blood as the staircases walled in front of them, but they made it in time to see a last gleam of sunlight through the balcony’s windows. Twenty-four hours before they were waiting for the Back Door to show itself. Now they were inside their retaken realm. It was a worthy Durin’s Day indeed. Bilbo smiled.  
“I never dreamed of looking through this window from inside.”  
“And we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, my dear friend.” Thorin slapped his shoulder, warmly. “It took the courage of a son of the Shire to stir the dragon.”  
“You would have found a way if I weren’t here, I am sure.”  
The hobbit shook off the praise. He wasn’t used to much incense and felt better without it.   
“The sun in sinking, we’d best find a safe place to camp; this balcony is too much open and exposed.”  
Balin remembered the last time he stood on that balcony and Smaug’s fire almost roasted him.  
“We can use the guardhouse opposite to the side where Smaug bored that hole.” Dwalin offered. “So we will be close to the entrance but inside a safe place, and then close to this watch post.”  
“It can be a good idea for this night, tomorrow we will see what happens.”  
“What is that, down river?”   
Ellen narrowed her eyes to have a better sight of the red lights she saw. In minutes it expanded to be seen even by the dwarves, as red and yellow tongues of flame lightened the distance.  
“Lake-Town.” Thorin mumbled. “Smaug has reached them.”  
“We must hope they had a chance.”  
“They took the risk of helping us, and we tried to warn and help them as we could. There’s nothing else to be done.”   
A thrush landed on the balcony and sang merrily, contrasting with the Company’s moods as they thought of what could have become of Lake-Town and it’s people.

ooo000ooo

Smaug swore in all known and unknown languages Middle-Earth had ever heard of, while flying his way downriver to have his revenge. It was not fair what was done to him. An invisible Smelly guy and a gang of dung smelling thieves had the insolence of stealing into his home and put bursting kegs in his own bedroom; no, it was not fair. Lake-Town pony owners would have their pay, oh they would, most of all if the horizon stopped to dance before his eye. Whatever salad the ponies ate definitely was not doing good for him. He hiccoughed, and a flame spurted out, involuntarily. By the dark dungeons of Morgoth, this was not going on well. Smaug hiccoughed again, his belly hurting where one of the _dunglings_ hit him deep. He almost got that insolent, but it was hard to find him on the side he lost sight. If it weren’t for that blasted blast kegs his armor would be whole and nothing of this would have happened.   
He didn’t remember Lake-Town was so distant, was it? But then it had been many years since he had a dinner with that people. Or, better saying, since he had _dinned_ that people. Smaug tried to focus on the river, the river, the river would take him where he wanted, he didn’t have to think about it, it was just following the river and everything would be all right. The river was his friend, the river was cute, it had fishes, nice fishes, and... and the river was far too close and Smaug made an emergency water landing, spilling water all around in great waves, and, oh, Glaurung, that hurt! He hurried to make himself out of the water again, burped salad and hiccoughed fire, and then flew unevenly in the general direction of Lake-Town, now that he was on the lake it was much more easier to get lost even following the river, because it went so wide... 

ooo000ooo

Lake-Town people had not been idle. When Bard came down from rowing the dwarven Company to the Desolation of Smaug’s borders he went straight to the Master and explained what could have to become. As expected, the fat fool didn’t listen to him, only counting on what rewards the dwarves would have for him when they fulfilled their mission, as they were an elite squad astoundingly well armed, and armored and supplied by himself, and this was bound to grant him some wealth, he was sure. What his people might be going through he didn’t care, just as the dwarves said to Bard. Weird it was that strangers knew more about the leader of his town that he himself; but then, he guessed it all along, and wasn’t that surprised at all.  
He sought for help where he could find it. Knowing the threat that could approach his town any time from now on, Bard used what influence he could, amongst his town-guard colleagues, his neighbors, but the best ally he found was unexpected. When he mentioned that there was a chance of the dragon to attack their town the healer who prescribed horseleech to Bilbo embraced the cause as if it were his own son who had gone to the Lonely Mountain, and made a pilgrimage amongst his patients present and past to explain the risk that was at hand, and what was there to be done. Several tradesman bought the cause too, as they were so well treated by the women of the Company, who in no moment ever questioned the high prices they put on the goods they wanted to buy; so, even with no backing from its Master, most of Lake-Town was alert to the upcoming menace, and a lot of eyes were set to the north looking for fire, the sign that they would have to put their escaping plans into action.  
The food merchants understood the opportunity and dealt supplies fairly, else they would be burned; the ones dealing with non-perishable supplies wanted their stores to be safe, and else moved or dealt them fairly too; albeit the upcoming winter, most people was willing to move to tents they deemed safe in the borders of Mirkwood Forest, as they had dealings with the wooden elves, expecting it would be a temporary move. So, when Smaug at least reached Lake-Town, burning its empty buildings, it was almost a ghost town, dwelt for few but Bard and his guard, his own faithful company, ready to land their arrows on the attacking dragon like they would never deem possible. They looked up at the unbalanced dragon’s bleeding belly and shot at will.

ooo000ooo

The Company was having another cold meal, as they dared not yet to light a fire until they were sure Smaug would not come back. They had brought only a little of their supplies to the balcony’s guardroom, as the next day they would have a better measure of what was happening, and paced the watching space often, because it was how they could get any news from what Samug could be doing. Ellen, admitting herself as the strategic planer of the Company, felt completely responsible for any death Smaug could accomplish in Lake-Town, and could not take her eyes from the south view, not even to bite some lembas. Thorin himself came trying to ease her worries, although he was as uneasy as her.  
“Be at ease, elf. What we have done changed the course of history, for good or for evil. I know you are kind of feeling yourself responsible for everyone and everything, but you can’t take the world on your shoulders.” She looked at him, her eyes hurt. “I must admit it could have been worse, but for you. At least we had a plan, and they had a warning.” He added, making a gesture towards Lake-Town.  
“I wish I could have news from downriver people.”   
Ellen’s eyes were downcast, her voice quiet. Thorin tried to handle her.  
“There are things we cannot change. What is past, is past, and we have to live with it.”  
Thorin said this out of his personal experience, of all the losses and wars he had been through; the very loss of Erebor, the six year war against the orcs that ended in the battle of Azanulbizar, and...  
The elf felt dizzy, and shook her head between her hands, a disturbed look in her eyes. Thorin didn’t know what to do, but helped her to sit herself to the floor, dizzy and confused.  
“What is going on? What have you done to my sister?”  
Balin was close to them in no moment at all.  
“I’ve done nothing!”  
“No, it is all right, brother!” The elf managed to speak. “It is just...” She shook her head.  
“You are safe, amongst family, sister.”  
Balin eased her head on his shoulder, like if she were a child and not an elf almost the double of his height. She breathed deep, reassuring herself.  
“The past was changed.” Ellen managed to say, after some minutes of disturbed silence. Then, dimly, she smiled. “It would have been worse; I don’t know what has happened in Lake-Town tonight, but it would have been worse, there would have been dead people, maybe there are, but we sent Smaug hurt and poisoned, not in his full strength as he would have gone.” The elf gazed at Thorin. “It would have been Bilbo’s doing, all you’d accomplished until now would have been Bilbo’s doing. Please don’t forget this!”  
“You must rest.”  
The white bearded dwarf helped the elf up, giving Thorin a meaningful glance. He shook his head, annoyed. He was barely able to deal with what he could see, what about the member of his Company that saw what none else could? 

ooo000ooo

Next day some of them made a trek to Ravenhill, the old watch post in the southern spur, while others went back to the Back Door tunnel to bring more supplies closer to the front Gate and others yet kept watch on the balcony. The Gate was broken, it was true, but they managed to clear out some rubbish and open a small crack, wide enough for them to pass but little more, and the access was easier from inside than from outside.  
Dwalin guided the ones who got outside, as he knew the lay of the land and the fastest way to reach the advanced watch post. Balin wanted his sister to stay in the balcony, because of the former night dizziness, but she insisted that she would be fine outside, that the light of the sun would do her good, and Kíli would be with her just in case. Ori and Bofur wanted to go with them, too, curious about their new home surroundings; it was a fact that Bofur was born in Erebor, albeit his family had come from Khazad-Dum before its fall, but he was a dwarfling when Smaug came, and remembered little, and surely he never got to Ravenhill.  
It was a long trek, almost three hours at a good pace, but the morning was chilly from the upcoming winter, and they reached the watch post in good mood. Being outside diluted somewhat the dragon dung smell they all bore still, as to disguise them from Smaug if he ever came back.  
The high place had an overwhelming view, far and wide and beautiful, if one ignored the charred land closer to the Mountain, but it was possible to imagine how it would be when the green came back, when the land would be healed, when life would spring from the earth and from inside Erebor. It was more than to retake a hoard or to get rid of a dragon, it was rebuilding a realm, having a place for a people to dwell and grow, in their righteous place, not in exile. A thrush sang close by.  
“If I were a bit more paranoid, I’d say this bird is stalking us.”  
“He may be, Sister, as thrushes have been friends to dwarves from old times already.”  
“Isn’t this watch post name wrong, then?” Asked Kíli. “I can see no raven around. It should be Thrush-hill!”  
“There were ravens here in our time; I don’t know what has become of them, but they could even communicate with us. Probably Smaug ate them. They were of an ancient and long living line, they could reach a hundred years or more.”  
The thrush flew somewhere downhill, and they looked around for any sign of threat. A dark cloud seemed to be forming in the north, and some birds were coming from the south, as they had seen all the morning long.  
“Will we put this watch post in use right away, Dwalin? We are too few to be scattered in many places.”  
“You are right, lad. This is only a reconnaissance outing, we will go back now and report.”  
The thrush came back, singing angrily in front of Dwalin.  
“This little fellow didn’t like your speech, brother!”  
“What a pity I don’t have the knack of understanding what he sings; it is told that there were dwarves who could understand them, but aye, I’m not one of them.”  
The delay the thrush provided was enough for an old battered and tired looking raven to fly to the battlement wall and land right in front of them; it was an enormous raven, but after seeing the Misty Mountains’ Eagles, nothing was very impressive anymore. Ellen thought that Edgar Allan Poe wouldn’t dream of a better pet. A harsh sound came from the black bird, to everyone’s surprise.  
“I am Roäc, son of Carc.”  
“Carc!” Dwalin was startled. “Carc was the Chief of the ravens of Ravenhill! How is it possible? What’s become of your father?”  
“We flew away before we got roasted.” The raven spoke again. “Carc flies in another sky now, for more than fifty years already.”  
“This is sad news! May your feathers never fall, Roäc, my friend!”  
“The thrush told me of you, of what you have been doing all this days long, and I have news for you, news from the south.”  
“What do you have to tell us, noble Roäc?”  
“The birds are coming back to live in the Lonely Mountain; the fire-breathing beast is no more.”  
“What do you mean? Speak clearly, bird!”  
“It has always been easy to make a dwarf to lose his temper, my father told me, but I couldn’t imagine it would take just one phrase to turn from ' _noble Roäc_ ' to ' _bird_ '!”  
“Ouch, I’m sorry, please forgive my outburst!”  
“Apologies accepted.”  
“So, now, what may you mean with the wise words you presented us, o noble Roäc?”  
“My father also told it was funny to see a dwarf trying to make amends.”  
Dwalin took a deep breath.   
“It might be.”  
“The dragon is dead. Lake-people killed him with arrows. He burned down the town, but the people got away in time. Erebor is yours.”  
The mighty dwarf had to fight himself not to hug the bird and kiss his beak. Instead he bowed low and produced a silver bead out of his pocked. Ellen had a feeling the dwarves used to have silver beads in their pockets like a kid would have chewing gums, or marbles. The raven took the gift and flew away.


	30. Chapter 30 – Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “People, thanks Durin we are no more in the open, but I believe we will rest better when this house is cleaned up a bit. Bombur’s junk will taste better if there is no earth in it, too.”  
> “I heard this!” Cried Bombur from the kitchen.

Thorin was eager to get to the hoard, but too much worried about the possible return of Smaug to leave the balcony watch post. So it was that he didn’t accompany the ones who went to bring the supplies that were left in the tunnel, and didn’t see when Bilbo stumbled on his own feet and fell hands forward on a gold pile, from where he retreated wide eyed with a huge gem in his hand, immediately and carefully hidden in his cloak.  
The ones who had gone to Ravenhill came back in a hurry with their news. The only delay was to jump into the first patch of the river that was reachable to take off the most of the dragon dung they could, even if some outer layer of cloth was simply cast away. The water was icy cold, but anything was better than to smell dragon dung. So it was that Thorin saw his companions come back less stinky and knew there were good news.  
Dwalin told him Roäc’s speech, avoiding the embarrassing parts, which Kíli would make sure to be known by everyone. The ones who were with Thorin in the balcony were overjoyed, and as soon as there was a sign of the ones bringing back their supplies Fíli shouted to them.  
“Time to take a bath!”  
Iris dropped whatever she was carrying and jumped into River Running springs, completely forgotten that hobbits don’t swim, but was quickly rescued by Glóin, who happened to be close by. She then sat at the bank and washed away every bit of filth she was able to, along with Bilbo, while the dwarves jumped into the running water the way they were. The ones in the balcony joined them soon, but for Kíli and Ellen, who had already jumped into the river when coming back from Ravenhill and used the need of someone to be at watch to grant them a bit time alone, albeit in sight of the others.  
“I have lots of Lake-Town soap yet, when someone comes to surrender us I’ll find a more secluded branch of the river for me and the girls to take a proper bath and change clothes. I’ll leave some soap bars here for you and the guys, too.”  
“Hmm, good smelling elf is my favorite!” Kíli teased her, laughingly.   
“Anything but dragon dung smelling dwarf is my favorite!”  
“Would it be better to have someone to watch over you while you bath, for your own safety, don’t you think so?”  
Kíli’s cheeky smile was priceless.  
“Even if I agree with you, what do you think my brothers would do? First we had your uncle to keep us apart, now we have my brothers concerned with my chastity like if I were a teenager, even if they don’t know it is useless. So now we have two watchdogs instead of one!”  
The dwarf eyed her with a sudden worry.  
“Keep them believing it is not useless, else they will eat my liver with onions!”

ooo000ooo

A thoroughly clean Company made their first hot meal in days uncounted, and then begun to plan for the rest of the day. To spend another night at that guardhouse was unthinkable, as it got entrenched with dragon dung stench, and they were pondering where it would best to camp.  
“Why don’t we go to my house?”  
Thorin invited them, a wide grin on his face. As matter of fact, it seemed that the grumpy dwarf face had vanished completely, now that years of worry were lifted from upon his shoulders.  
“It is here close by, it has enough room for all of us, and it may be less clogged with dust than in the open halls. Come, let us go to my house!”  
Now that he said, it seemed obvious to the women. That __had been their house, at least to most of them. Fíli, Kíli and Ori were born in exile, and Nori and Bofur were kids when the dragon came, but Erebor was the place the dwarves had dwelt, worked, played, _lived_ until a hundred and some years ago. And now they were back home.  
They gathered their things and followed Thorin to the house were he was born and dwelt with his parents, his grandfather, his brother and sister. Then it stuck him that from all of them only his sister remained alive. He looked at his nephews, her sons, and was glad that they both were there with him. They had been his pride and joy since when they were toddlers, it was only fair that they’d be beside him in his moment of fulfillment.   
And then there was Lily, his white flower, found in the wild. When things were settled, he would send word for a Mahal’s priest and have her as his rightful wife and queen. They could marry along with Kíli and Ellen, it would be a celebration to be remembered for years. It would have to wait until Dís could come, of course, she would never forgive him and Kíli if she weren’t there for the weddings. With good roads, no goblins and no Mirkwood elves, it could take up to a whole year for someone to reach Ered Luin and get back with his sister. It would not matter, one year was little considering all that there was to be done, cleansed, fixed...  
Thorin’s head was lost in his thoughts when they reached his former house, and it brought him back to reality with a shock. His warrior mind had kept the memory of the destruction Smaug brought to Erebor in a macro way, the big picture, the great flight for their lives when their fight was useless. He himself marching with the other warriors to the gate the dragon was about to assault, believing they could do something to protect their realm. The dragon trampling on them as if they were ants. His struggle to get his grandfather away from the hoard in time to save him.   
But, although his rational mind knew, in a way, how things really were, his heart was not ready for what he saw and mostly for what he felt when he pulled open and entered the door of the house of his childhood and youth. To each side of the door statues as high as the dwelling walls height guarded it, one to the resemblance of Durin and the other the image of Mahal.  
There was a large living room, with a hearth encircled by wrought iron couches where silken cushions laid rotten, as rotten were the tapestries on the walls and floor. There his grandfather, Thrór, King Under the Mountain, used to forget his daily burdens, and rejoiced to be among his family, and sometimes his closest friends; there Thrór spoiled him, his brother and his sister, giving them gold coins for every question he made that they answered correctly; there Thráin, his father, gave him and his brother some lessons of how to behave, because they really had to get those lessons. One of the reasons he was so close to his nephews albeit they got him crazy sometimes was because he himself and his brother were not at all different brats. The chair close to the kitchen’s door where his mother used to sit to make her sewings and embroideries, because she said there was the best light to see the tread; a small chair was beside hers, he could almost see Dís sitting there with her dolls. Everything was covered in dust. Less dust than out there in the open halls, but, anyway, the dust of time.  
Thorin said nothing, but his stance, his wandering eyes, told more to his companions than any word would tell. Balin, who used to be one of Thráin’s closest friends, and used to be around that house before Smaug came, and actually was saved from one of the first dragon’s fire breaths by Thorin himself, came close to his king, feeling almost the same pain.   
“My lord, are you sure it would be fit to stay here?”  
He saw Thorin shutting his eyes for a moment, and then clenching his fists, regaining composure.  
“Yes, it is. A man has the right to come back to his own house, and to bring in whomever might be at his side.” He took a torch and got it lit. “We camp in the main living room for today. I’ll see if the other rooms are not damaged. Do not open the roofs, all dust that is on them would fall into the house.”  
He held the torch up and went into the corridor, alone. The Company knew better than to follow him right now, giving him the time he needed. He walked slowly, letting his memories flood his eyes with grief. There was the music room, and all harp lesson hours he and Frerin took out of his mother’s orders, when all they wanted was to play with the other boys their age; the study room, where he himself helped his brother to learn his first runes when the preceptor got sick right in the day Frerin would have his first classes and was so downcast because he wanted so much to learn; Dís’ sleeping room, her dolls all over the place... he could almost hear her shrill voice begging him to play with her ‘because the princess needs a valiant warrior to go to the ball with her, and you are the most valiant warrior in all Middle-Earth! _Please_!’ The same _please_ he heard her say when they were about to leave for the quest. ‘Bring my sons back, brother. _Please_!’ He took out a small silver box from a shelf, blew the dust from the lid and opened it. The small delicate figure of a dwarf-lass put herself upright, waiting. Thorin winded it up and the small figure swirled to the sound of the delicate music box.  
He was about to enter his own bedroom full of memories when Balin came to talk to him, rescuing him from the past. The old dwarf helped him to regain composure, speaking of pressing needs of the Company, gently guiding him out of the family area of the house, wise, loyal Balin.

ooo000ooo

Dwalin signaled Ellen to his side and spoke quietly.   
“Sister, we will get Thorin out of here for a couple of hours. See what you can do with the rest of the Company to make this place inhabitable. He is far too stubborn to accept his soul is downcast from seeing his house in this condition after all this years.”  
“I understand, brother. Just keep yourself and Balin away from your own house for now, all right?”  
“Why?”  
“Because there in Imladris I felt the pain of the losses both you and Thorin felt. The pain I see in his eyes now reminds me of it. I don’t want you and our older brother to get through this without me at your side.”  
Dwalin shook his head.   
“You shouldn’t bother yourself.”  
“If I don’t care for my brothers, what a piece of crap of a sister am I?”  
Dwalin laughed and clapped her on the shoulder and then they both hit their foreheads, laughing. Right then Thorin stepped in the middle of the living room with Balin at his side, his face the usual stone mask, composure regained, and Ellen thought it was a heavy burden to be king of a people, dissolving himself on behalf of them, doing what had to be done no matter what his own emotional state was.  
“Company, I’m going to see for armor and weaponry in the main guardhouse. Dwalin, Balin, Bilbo, you come with me. Bombur, see for a meal for all of us. Kíli, when you surrender Glóin in the watch, tell him to go to the guardhouse too. All others, take some rest.”  
He left the house followed by his two comrades and the hobbit. Bombur headed to the kitchen.  
As soon as his footsteps could no more be heard, it was time for the elf to stand up and clap her hands to gain the Company’s attention.  
“People, thanks Durin we are no more in the open, but I believe we will rest better when this house is cleaned up a bit. Bombur’s junk will taste better if there is no earth in it, too.”  
“I heard this!” Cried Bombur from the kitchen.  
“The ones who lived here before, you know where we can find water, and where to send the trash to. From the rest, two or three to help Bombur cleanse the kitchen and make the meal, the others go clean this room, and if there is still time, the closest rooms. Any doubt?”  
Bifur put his hand up and then made a series of gestures and grunts. Ellen was slow at learning his hand signs, but made out one or two words.  
“Bofur, can you please translate what your cousin is asking about “ _orders_ ”?”  
“Bifur is asking why you are giving us orders.”  
Bofur seemed amused by his cousin’s irritation. Ellen sighed.  
“Bifur, dear, I am not giving orders, I am asking for help! Please?”  
He crossed his arms and shook his head. Bofur teased him.  
“Let it be, Ellen, this senile dwarf here is strong enough to use a boar spear but too frail to handle a broom. We can do without him, let Bifur sit upon his own pile of dirt if he wants.”  
Bifur made the universal gesture with one finger to him, making the crew laugh out loud. Óin, the senior of them, nearly roared. Then they organized themselves in small teams and parted, each group to his own duty.

ooo000ooo

Most things were utterly lost, rotten beyond help. Mice too small to bother a dragon had found their way to any stored food, but were long ago gone too. Moths feasted on almost any kind of fabric, although some leather things were still whole, but stiff. Embroideries with silver and gold tread were still undamaged, but the fabric underneath was frail; these Ellen and Lily put away for future use as sample. Bombur found a small fortune in salt, as it was non perishable, and would use some of it to give a different taste to the meal, so often spiceless in the wild. The stew was already smelling delicious when Kíli was ready to surrender Glóin in the watch. The main living room was already clean. Dwarves really had a knack in working together that, once put into motion, was quite a sight.  
Something like an hour later Thorin and the others were back with a pile of armor in their arms. Bilbo wore a glistening, finely made chainmail, and all of them wore helms. Balin blinked sideways to Dwalin when they reached the front door and smelled wet stone besides Bombur’s stew. They stepped in.  
The second time Thorin entered the house of his youth after taking back Erebor his face was of surprise, not of dismay. The rotten tapestries and cushions vanished, not a single cobweb was to be seen, the dirt on the floor was gone.  
The whole bunch of dwarves plus the hobbit-lass and the elf were there, smiling proudly at him; Fíli came forward with a big grin in his face.  
“Welcome home, Uncle!”  
Thorin put on his grumpy mode face.  
“I told you to rest. Who told you to cleanse the house?”  
Half a dozen fingers pointed to Ellen, who braced herself for the upcoming storm and gave a step forward. Balin and Dwalin hurried past Thorin and stood beside her.  
“I told her to do so!” Spoke out Dwalin.  
“And I advised you to visit the guardhouse for it to be done!” It was Blain’s turn to stay in her defense.  
Thorin shook his head, smiling, much to everyone’s relief.  
“Blessed be the children of Fundin!” Then he looked up to the elf. “All of them. You three are really forged out from the same alloy!” He slapped Balin’s shoulder as he walked past him. “You forgot just one thing, old fellow.”  
“And what might it be, laddie?”  
The mighty dwarf entered the kitchen and went to a door at its back.  
“The way to the cellars! Good wine improves with time, let us see what more than a century has done to what is there.”

ooo000ooo 

Fíli emptied his mug and stood up.  
“I will surrender Kíli in the watch, he must be hungry.”  
“He is always hungry.” Someone said. Then Ellen thought about the other hunger she had, and Kíli’s hungry eyes at her, even more now that they knew each others’ taste. Then she offered.  
“I will go with you, to make you company on your way there.”  
“Oh, yes? And then?”  
“Then I’ll come back, to make Kíli company on his way here!”  
“No way!” Intervened Dwalin. “It is not proper for a lady to walk around alone with a man at this hour of the night.”  
“But brother, I’m grown up already, don’t you think so?”  
The elf thought this was ridiculous. The tattooed dwarf just looked at her darkly and shook his head.  
“Oh, come on, dear, we are almost betrothed!”  
“One more reason for you to stay at home!”  
She shook her head, laughingly. It was quite absurd, but to some degree it was funny and heartwarming to have someone who cared that much about her. She missed her brother Wolfram dearly, but with Dwalin and Balin she felt as part of a special family.  
Iris and Lily laughed at her.  
“Now, Aunty, do you understand how we feel when you overprotect us?”


	31. Chapter 31 – Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I will not raise my hand against any person of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, but I will defend my king and my kin to death if it is needed.”  
> Kíli lifted his eyes from the bowl.   
> “This is what I expect from one compromised to me.”

Now that they were home and dragon-less it was time to work. Roäc and his ravens kept them informed of what was happening in the vicinity, and for the moment all seemed to be calm. Thorin took his time to search for the Arkenstone, the hearth of the mountain of old, the heirloom of his family. Óin warned him that a dragon-lain hoard could be dangerous, but the king didn’t care, he waited for too many years to get there and would not listen to any advice.  
In the meanwhile, the Company managed to cleanse the whole house and the main paths, so that their trampling would not carry dust back home. It was strange to call a place home after so many months of wandering, after so many years of exile.  
Fíli and Kíli did themselves the cleaning of their uncle’s chambers, and greeted him when he came back from the hoard with the smile of ones who accomplished a big mischief. They didn’t even say anything and he already guessed there was something coming up.  
“Now, what are these sheepish smiles meant to?”  
With a flourish of their hands, the boys produced a golden harp, complete and tuned, Thorin’s personal knot engraved at its shoulder. His eyes got moist, but he held the knot in his throat not to show.  
“My father gave me this harp when I was a lad. My mother made me learn to play it. Now they are gone to the Halls of Waiting, and this harp has waited for me to sing again.”  
He sat and touched the strings lightly, bringing them to life once again. Lily went to him with a mug of warm tea, which he drank some sips to break to chill of the late winter afternoon, then he fingered the harp with more assurance, and begun to sing in his rich baritone voice, soon to be followed by the humming dwarves. It was the same melody Bilbo heard him sing first time they met, ages ago at Bag End, but some verses were different.

Far over the Misty Mountains Cold   
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away ere break of day  
To seek our pale enchanted gold

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells  
While hammers fell like ringing bells  
In places deep, where dark things sleep  
In hollow halls beneath the fells

Goblets they carved there for themselves  
And harps of gold; where no man delves  
There lay they long, and many a song  
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The bells were ringing in the dale  
And men looked up with faces pale;  
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire  
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

Far over the misty mountains grim  
To dungeons deep and caverns dim  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To win our harps and gold from him!

With this Thorin’s spirit uplifted and they sang until late, making Erebor’s halls pulse with their renewed joy in life.

ooo000ooo

Next day news were not so good. Roäc came informing of a troop of elves coming from Mirkwood down to Lake-Town, and he heard that they sought for revenge for their escape. Thranduil’s twisted words had been able to poison Men’s ears and make them believe the dragon had been sent upon them on purpose, so the dwarves would not have to pay for the supplies and necessities they took. Bard and a few others, including the horseleech healer, were still uncorrupted, but unable to change the tide, as the Master of the Town himself made more and more gossip to make his people greedy for the dwarven gold. Thranduil bought even more twisting in the matter offering help as if the Men were completely forsaken instead of well prepared thanks to the dwarves’ frankness and donation of gold. Then someone had the stupid idea that the dwarves could be dead, and it was only a matter of getting to Erebor and take what they wanted.  
Thorin was mad at the news. All their planning and fighting and negotiating with Bard had come to nothing because of the bloody elven-king’s lies. There would be war, and they were only seventeen.  
“Roäc, wisest of birds, I ask you please to send word of these happenings to my cousin Dáin Ironfoot in the Iron Hills to the east. If they come not in time to help us, they at least will taste revenge.”  
Then, oddly enough, he held close council with Óin.

ooo000ooo

It was a little past midday and Ellen took a bowl of stew to Kíli, who was at watch in the balcony. As it was plain day, her brothers allowed her to get close to him unwatched.  
Ellen’s head was in conflict, and she wanted someone to talk about it, and it had to be him.   
“This is wrong. The Lake-men have no guilt for Thranduil’s faults.”  
“Thorin is angry because the Elvenking granted to Lake-Town people the help he begrudged to our own, when Smaug came.”  
“But there are children, women, old people...”  
“As there were amongst our people, too.”  
The elf lowered her eyes, thinking. She remembered Dwalin’s pain for his losses, one of them the loss of his sister to a fever. If they were not wandering in the wild, would she have died? And Thorin’s pain, too. Kíli’s mother was a child when Smaug came, she was one of the children to whom Thranduil begrudged compassion. And now Lake-Town men were at the Elven-king side, ready to war against them seventeen, and yes, there was little or no chance at all that they would ever think about paying to Durin’s folk elsewhere their inheritance if the Company were found dead. She made up her mind.  
“I will not raise my hand against any person of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, but I will defend my king and my kin to death if it is needed.”  
Kíli lifted his eyes from the bowl.   
“This is what I expect from one compromised to me.”  
“What a pity we could not yet have that compromise announcement like you wanted back at Lake-Town. With war at hand, we don’t even know if there will ever be a chance.”  
Ellen was getting depressed; she knew war could mean death to any of them, or for both. The dwarf put the bowl on the floor and took her hands in his.  
“But we will. Thorin told me. He doesn’t want to go to war uncompromised either.” Ellen looked at him wide eyed, surprised. “If you have a beautiful dress in your packs, put it on this evening; if you don’t, I’ll be proud to compromise to a full armored fancy elf warrior.”

ooo000ooo

Óin was the oldest member of the Company that was not directly involved in the Compromising that evening, and so, responsible for calling the Compromise Speech. They knew they all could be dead anytime, because the ravens brought them more news about the elves and men moves, and that meant war was at hand. But, to the dwarven beliefs, a compromise made in life meant they would have their souls intertwined and would find each other in Halls of Waiting; they believed also that a dwarf soul would come back in his own lineage if what he was meant to fulfill in this life was not completed, or if he got in debt to his own folk. That was why Durin himself came back some times already, and still would come, in due time, for his love and compromise to his people was forever.  
Balin was thinking about all this and lost the beginning of what Óin said, but he had heard it many times already and only got startled when he heard Thorin’s nephew being called. He was glad to be alive to see that young footloose boy take so a serious step.  
“Kíli, son of Dís, daughter of Thrain, of the line of Durin, what have you to offer to grant the future of your home and your family?”  
The youngling was obviously nervous, but swallowed hard and spoke with no trembling in his voice.  
“I bring the skills of warfare, blacksmithing, and stone carving.” This nor Ellen knew about, and eyed him smilingly. “I bring also what share in the treasure of Erebor will be found due, according to my contribution to its reconquest; and I bring the name of the line of Durin.”  
Having finished his speech, he smiled at her, unable to hide his happiness.  
“Who speaks in the name of Ellen, daughter of Nyda?”  
The patriarchal dwarven culture required a man to speak in name of the fiancée, which was quite a help for regular dwarven girls who really were shy; to Ellen and her nieces, it was just funny.  
“I, Balin, son of Fundin, speak for her.”  
“And what has she to bring to her future home and family?”  
“She brings the skills of warfare, housekeeping, embroidering and gardening.” It was imperative for a woman to have the skill of housekeeping mentioned, as oddly as it sounded to the three of them there present. Then the white haired dwarf took out a small piece of paper to read so he would not say wrong the strange predicates he was not quite used to. “She brings fire brigade knowledge, a business administration bachelor grade, and a mastering degree in strategic planning.” He put the paper back into his pocket along with his glasses and completed, to the surprise of many, giving the elf his and Dwalin’s betrothal gift. “Also, she brings the name of the family of Fundin, _by adoption_.”  
That was unexpected. They all knew she was Little Sister to Balin and Dwalin, but that was usually an informal agreement among the involved ones only; having mentioned her as being adopted to the family of Fundin at a formal announcement made her a rightful heiress to any inheritance her brothers had right to. As they had no direct descendants, it made her potentially astoundingly wealthy.  
After the Speech, they exchanged silver beads that they would entwine in their braids as a sign of compromise. In ancient days, the braiding would have been done right then and there, but nobody had the patience to wait for a rightful braiding of hairs since Óin son of Glóin took two hours to have his hair braided for his compromise bead, back in 2.450 Third Age.  
Óin called for the next couple, not leaving time for the Company to chat about the adoption, as that could come later.  
“Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, of the line of Durin, what have you to offer to grant the future of your home and your family?”  
There seemed to be no nervousness in the proud dwarf when he spoke, most words the same as his nephew’s.   
“I bring the skills of warfare, blacksmithing, and kingship. I bring also my own share of the treasure of Erebor, and a seat beside me at the high throne of our Fathers of old; I bring the name of the line of Durin.”  
Everybody nodded and smiled to his speech, mostly because until some months ago none of them thought that this would ever happen.  
“Who speaks in the name of Lily, daughter of Wolfram?”  
It was not usual that a woman spoke for another, but being the only adult relative the dwarf-lass had there, it had to be Ellen to speak for her, according to what was agreed beforehand.   
“I, Ellen, daughter of Fundin, speak for her.” Said the elf, using her dwarf family name for the very first time.  
“And what has she to bring to her future home and family?”  
“She brings the skills of fighting, housekeeping and hairdressing.” It was not just braiding, she could really cut and hairstyle the way she wanted, and it was well accounted amongst the dwarfs. “She brings knowledge of herb lore, basic healing, indoors design and basic architecture.” It was not a problem to mention some knowledge as “basic” because she was so young it only showed that she was someone eager to learn. “She brings the name of the family of Wolfram, son of Nyda, from out of the circles of Arda.”   
That last part would be close to the regular speech for her own family name, hadn’t Balin mentioned her as adopted to the line of Fundin. Thorin and Lily exchanged silver beads to entwine into their braids later and Óin took the word again.   
“Be aware that from now on, until the day of your wedding, Mahal will be watching you to find if you are worthy one of the other; the skills and knowledge you swore to bring to your future home and family are to be proven to be true, if they haven’t so already.”  
Ellen elbowed Kíli’s side and whispered.   
“What does it mean? Nobody told me anything about proving skills!”  
“Be at ease, in our case it means only that I have to make a carving for you and that you have to embroider me something and grow a garden before our wedding.”  
“And when will that be?”  
“If we are still alive, in a year and a day, at least”. He fingered the back of her dark green dress. “Is it time enough for what you have to do?”  
“I think so. It is not because I lived in an apartment that I don’t know how to grow some flowers.”  
“What is an _apartment_?”  
“Hmm, a kind of house inside a tower.”  
“Like the _office tower_ you mentioned?”  
“Yes, like this.”  
“Hmm, it sounds like a particular dungeon, doesn’t it?”  
Ellen laughed.  
“Yes, kind of!”


	32. Chapter 32 - The Tomb Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can really read this? What does it mean?”  
>  The dwarves were astonished with the discovery. The girls turned back to them.  
> “We don’t know. It is not in our own language!”

It would be some days before any army could reach Erebor, and so they prepared themselves for the storm that was to come. All kind of weapon and armor to be found was made ready to use, albeit the most probably was that they would be in siege, and then food would be the main problem. Balin and Dwalin were the ones to take charge on the preparations for whatever would come to happen, as Thorin went into the hoard and wouldn’t leave until he found the Arkenstone.  
Bombur reminded them that Erebor had its own source of food, even if it could get boring if they had to live a long time on it, but was worth a try to see if it still was there. There was also Mirror Lake, where it could be possible to find fish. He gathered some volunteers and they went through mighty tunnels to an area closer to the east side of the Mountain.  
They followed Bombur down in what seemed to Bofur, Nori, Ori, Iris and Lily endless stairs. Lily marveled in every new style of wrought stone pillar or banister she saw, thinking her architecture classes would never show her such works of art and skilled craft. The oldest dwarf amongst them rejoiced in showing them the halls closest to the staircase set that led to Mirror Lake.  
“I know well these paths, for they lead also to the mushroom growths. Mushrooms grow in the darkness and can sprout again after many years dormant.” Bombur was proud of showing them what he knew of their retaken realm, and about food. “But Mirror Lake is one of the most amazing things you will see in your whole life, I bet my beard. Its surface is really a mirror, no water is like its water, you can see not an inch bellow its surface; and if you are _under_ its surface, you cannot see what is above. But if you take a handful of water in your hands, it is just plain water. You can drink it, you can swim in it, but you cannot see through it, when it is in the Lake.”  
“Really weird!” Stated Iris, to what Ori agreed.  
“It must help the lighting system of Erebor, I’m sure.” Lily thought in an urbanist way. “Every light that hits the lake will reflect and go back to the halls.”  
Bofur gave his contribution, although he was really young when Smaug came and took his home and his father from him.   
“Mother said it was used to bring the children to bathe in the Mirror Lake waters so that they would grow up smarter.”  
“And you see it really makes a difference, ladies!” Nori elbowed his younger brother, born in Ered Luin.  
“And _our_ Mother says it is a pity that it was only a legend!” Ori supplement, much to everyone’s laughter.  
The reached the lake level and headed for it. Probably for the light reflected by it and the moisture it kept, there was the first place they found anything growing inside the Mountain besides the piles of dust. A very light colored moss covered the corners of the path stones, here and there climbing no more than inches on the walls. It felt fresh and alive like an old forest at night.  
“If we round the lake by the north side, we will reach the mushroom growth faster, and you can take a good look at the Mirror Lake Tomb Stone, too.” Bombur informed. The girls got curious and a little alarmed.  
“Tomb Stone? Are the graveyards here close by, where mothers bathed their children?”  
“No, not really! There is only one Tomb Stone adjacent to Mirror Lake, and legends tell it is not even of a dwarf. It is there for so a long time already that none knows exactly who is buried there and why it was allowed that a non-dwarf would have this honor granted.”  
“Then how are you sure it is a tomb stone?”  
“It has strange writings on it, like only a tomb stone could have, and is shaped like a tomb stone. Why would anyone shape a stone like a tomb stone if it weren’t a tomb stone at all?”  
“It makes some sense.”  
Like everything in Erebor, Mirror Lake was mighty, impressive. Its diameter could not be much more than half a mile, but being at such a low level in the whole mountain and having light funnels cut through the stone to bring the sun on it made it shine like if it was quite wider that it actually was, and gave back its light to everything around. The water source was not to be seen, probably coming from underground; the south path was somewhat smoother, having real beaches of fine grained bluish sands, but north path was a little higher from the water level, which allowed them to see its full extension and glory. It was a breathtaking unstirred water mirror.  
“Bombur, it is heart shaking!” Iris was utterly impressed by the whole scenery. “If it were back at my old world, people would pay to see this marvel!”  
The red bearded fat dwarf chuckled in delight.   
“I told you!”  
Ori was breathless. His artist soul felt the innumerable possibilities that place held for his pencils, almost panicky if his life would be enough to draw all there was to be drawn on the shores of that lake, and to catch all the light that spread from it. Lily had a slight epiphany feeling when she said.   
“Now I understand why mothers believe their children will get smarter from bathing here.”  
“You do?”  
“I do.” She went on, quietly. “It is so much stimulus, you have more light than in most of the halls, and coming from more directions than, and in various intensities; each kind of stone shines in several different ways, and if you are telling me is true, which I don’t doubt, when you duck into the water you become like blind, completely in the darkness and in search for light; and then you come out of that darkness to these wondrous halls...” She was at a loss of words.  
“I never understood...” Bofur eyed the dome above them with a renewed sight. He bowed his head to the waters, as if ashamed of having not comprehended what all that meant, and a stranger to his birth halls grasped it at the same moment she saw it. “I was just a child then...”  
Bombur patted his big chubby hand on his brother’s shoulder, trying to make him feel better.   
“And now, brother, you are only a man.” (1) Bofur turned to him, his always smirking eyes wet from feeling he was at his own home for the very first time in life. “Be glad. Some people take more than a life to understand what they have to.”  
They were reaching a higher ground, amidst two portentous natural stone pillars, where a somewhat different boulder outstood. Its color was obviously wrong. The Lonely Mountain was, essentially, of different kinds of stone that bore gold naturally, along with other minerals. As a matter of fact, the profusion of gems in Erebor’s mines along with gold and silver could only be due to Aulë’s own decision, as no geologist could ever make out why it was the way it was. Of course, if ever a geologist should come close to Erebor. But that boulder had shades from caramel to cream, and was sedimentary, unlike the whole of the Mountain. They came closer to see the strange markings Bombur mentioned, the girls and Ori very curious, as they had never seen it before; as soon as she got her eyes on it, Lily gave a cry.  
“Iris! It is Latin alphabet, these are letters from our world!”  
Lily looked up at the writings, open mouthed, in shock. Iris was silent, and a moment of silence coming from Iris was something to pay attention to. Then she read the first line aloud, almost stumbling on the words.  
“ _Longa kaj prospera vivo_.”  
“You can really read this? What does it mean?”  
The dwarves were astonished with the discovery. The girls turned back to them.  
“We don’t know. It is not in our own language!”

ooo000ooo

They went to the mushroom growth and found it was perfectly full of mushrooms after all that time. Moisture from Mirror Lake and the right temperature kept it sustainably equilibrated along the years, and they collected an assortment of different types of mushrooms enough to make any hobbit smile from ear to ear. Then Lily hurried back to get Ellen to see the Tomb Stone and find out if she could make some sense of what was written there. Unfortunately, she could not do much more than her nieces.  
“This first line looks like Esperanto.” She turned to Kíli, explaining in short. “It is an invented language, made to be easy to any other language speaker to learn it.”  
“And what does it mean?” Lily asked, tense.  
“If my memory works at least a little bit, it should be something like ‘ _Long and prosperous life_ ’. Weird. It was used as a greeting by a certain people in a movie series in my world.” Ellen stated this so Kíli could follow what they were seeing and thinking. “What is this possibly doing here?”  
“And the rest of the writings? Can you make something out of it? What is a _movie series_?”  
Kíli would not let her be alone close to anything that could possibly drag her back to her former world.  
“No, the words are too rough, they don’t look like any language I know of.”  
Ellen studied the writings from top to bottom, trying to find any sound that had any meaning for her. Suddenly she started to laugh.  
“It is obvious!”  
“I don’t see anything obvious here.” Stated Lily.  
“I can make only one single word out of this mess, but it is enough to know at least which language it is. It is Klingon! Thankfully, it was not written in the Klingon alphabet too.”  
Kíli was curious, which means, he was being Kíli.  
“What is _Klingon_?”  
“It is the language of another people in that same movie series. A lot of people love this series enough to learn this language.”  
Lily was excited.  
“Yes, like Father!”  
“And have you learned it too?”  
“No.” Ellen shook her head. “I think I was not nerd enough to give me the trouble.”  
“What is _nerd_?”  
“Kíli, please just stop asking things, I trying to think!”  
“I just want to understand your weird talk, elf! I must know if not being nerd enough is meant as insult or praise.”  
“Ouch, all right, sorry, my kiwi, I’m just distressed.”  
“What is _kiwi_?”  
She chuckled.   
“A thing that is hairy in the outside and savory in the inside!”  
He blushed and Lily laughed; Kíli resumed his questioning, changing the subject.   
“What is a _nerd_?”  
“Someone who loves to learn and uses to learn a lot about some issue, usually. Mostly linked to technology, culture, any specific subject. It is hard to explain.”  
“Then a nerd is a wise person?”  
“Well, it is a person who knows a lot about something; it doesn’t always make a person wise.”  
“And your brother is a _nerd_ that speaks _Klingon_?”  
“I know he studied it for some time, he is a nerd that likes to learn languages, amongst other stuff. If he were here maybe he could read it.” She shook her head. “But there it is no helping at all. The only one I know who could read this is exactly in the place we must read this to be able to go to. We’re stuck.”  
“I don’t like to see you so interested in finding the Passage Gate back to your world, mostly right after we Compromised.”  
The dwarf was clearly annoyed.  
“Kíli, we have had this argument before. Please. My brother has the right to know what happened to us, and to have his daughters to report him what they are up to, at least. All I want is a way to communicate with him, to send him a message. And, in my opinion, to send him Iris, too.”  
“Why do you insist in sending my Little Sister away? I never had a sister before!” Kíli complained and Ellen sighed.  
“Why didn’t Glóin bring his son Gimli to this quest?”  
“Because he is too young, sometimes he doesn’t reason at all and gets into trouble for him and for us.”  
“Did he like to be left behind?”  
“Of course not!”  
“Do you think he should have come?”  
“Of course not, again!”  
“Then you have your answer.”  
“But if it weren’t for her, we would not have made the exploding kegs! She was crucial for our victory over Smaug!”  
“I don’t deny it. But think about what would be it like with her around in times of peace with this kind of prank attitude all time long. You don’t know what my brother has gone through when she exploded her school toilet.”  
Kíli’s eyes got wide and Ellen finished to copy the Klingon writings on a paper sheet Ori gave her.   
“I don’t know if I will be able to make any word out of it, but if it is somehow related to the languages of my old world that I know, I may fish something.”  
“Does your old world have many languages?”  
“Hundreds.” Lily answered for he aunt. “Ellen speaks well at least two of them, and understands a bit of some more.”  
“In my work area there was no other way, dear.”  
“And your father, Aunty?”  
“Aunty is your braid!” They chuckled. “He is a languages nerd. Last time I counted, he was able to communicate in fourteen languages.”   
They took the way back to the headquarters.   
“And, Kíli, please don’t tell my sister about what we deem better for her. It will be less hurtful if she finds out herself that maturity is something that is needed to make some decisions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 – “I was just a child then, now I’m only a man” refers to Pink Floyd’s song “Possible Pasts”


	33. Chapter 33 – Gold Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can leave and come as you wish, you are a free citizen of Erebor.”  
> “You don’t understand.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I am not just leaving this dragon cursed place, I am leaving you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra chapter today, just because you my dozen readers are so wonderfull! You deserve it!

They kept the next days preparing for a possible war and an almost sure siege. Thorin spend his days in the hoard looking for the Arkenstone, and Bilbo was becoming a very quiet hobbit, not excited at all about warfare. At the end of the sixth day after Smaug’s demise they had news that the elven and human army was at the borders of the Desolation area, and next day morning a couple of scouts came to Erebor’s Front Gate; when they saw dwarves on watch in the balcony, they retreated without a word.  
“The Ostrich King has come!” Fíli went in a hurry to warn Thorin. “They sent some scouts to see if we are alive, Uncle. Better prepare for a parley.”  
“Let us see what they have to say.”  
Answered a bad tempered Thorin. Anything that made him get away from the hoard was not welcomed. He had already hurried away with most of the Company members who tried to make him get away from the hoard for any reason.  
There was no need to wait for a small embassy to reach the Front Gate. Soon Thorin and his Company saw them coming, Bard from the Lake-Men and Legolas from Thranduil’s folk, plus two or three from each race. The presence of elves bore no good at all.  
“Hail, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór!”  
“Hail, Bard of Lake-Town.” Thorin was in no good mood but tried to keep civilized. “What brings you to our doors?”  
“I’ve been sent to claim reward for the death of the dragon which haunted your realm. He burned down our town and our people are in the wild.”  
“Not for lack of our warning or previous help.”  
“No warning we had that we would have to deal with a drunken dragon.”  
“Drunken or not, it was an injured dragon you had to deal with, impaired and half blind.”  
“This we do not deny.”  
“So...?”  
“I’ve been sent to claim compensation for the death of the dragon which burned down our town.”  
“Discounted our previous help, it might be thought of, in due time, but not to ones who come to us armed as if to war. And what does the brood of Mirkwood at our doors?”  
Bard shuffled his feet, uncomfortable, and Legolas took the word.   
“Thranduil King claims a share of the treasure for having helped Lake-Town men.”  
“ _What_?”  
Legolas looked at the other members of the embassy, evaluating them, and then back at Thorin.   
“To make it short, he is a greedy fellow and is trying to get some wealth out of this mess. I don’t agree with him but if I don’t play my part he will disinherit me, and I’m not quite at ease with this idea.” The others looked wide eyed at him, amazed. “What’s the matter? I might be stupid, but I’m sincere!”  
“Get your sincerity out of my sight before I stuck an arrow in the middle of it! No word will I have with Mirkwood scum and no compensation will be accounted for ones who come at my door in arms!”  
And with this the embassy was dismissed, and an angry Thorin went back to his dragon-enchanted hoard

ooo000ooo

“No good, no good, this will be no good!” Balin paced the living room to and fro.  
“How will we get rid of the elves? They have nothing to claim from us!” Fíli was indignant.  
“Worse still, _they_ should pay us a compensation for having jailed us undeservedly!” Kíli supported his brother.  
“That’s true, that’s true, but how will we deal with this siege?”  
“As long as there are mushrooms, there is hope!” This was Bilbo’s contribution to the argument.  
“Dáin will be here in days. If Lake-Town people don’t reason and Thranduil’s elves don’t retreat, we will have war.”  
“That’s it, the army Thranduil begrudged Thrór to defeat Smaug he unleashes against one of the free peoples of Middle-Earth. What a shame to my blood!” Ellen was distressed. “No wonder Thorin got so long to trust me, if I had a former experience with that guy I would not trust any elf either!”  
“If the compensation was given to the Lake-Town men, would it be the end of the siege?” Bilbo asked, curious.  
“Thranduil is greedy, you heard his own son say so. Bard didn’t mention reward for the elves, you all saw it.”  
“But he didn’t deny Legolas’ speech.”  
“He was only a speaker, not the one who decides things. I’m sure we would negotiate fairly with him, but there’s no way to fix things with the elves there.”  
“There is too much evil wandering free in Middle-Earth for us to agree with war amongst the free Peoples.”  
“But we are not seeking for war, war came at our doors!”  
And so the talk went on, as there was no way to conciliate dwarven and elven interests; albeit their experience in the wild along the last few months, nor the women nor Bilbo were at ease with the idea of war against elves and men, after all, three of them had been human not long ago, and one of them was currently an elf. The hobbit was the one who felt worse about it, and he got quieter and quieter as the night approached.

ooo000ooo

Next day found the embassy at the Front Gate again. Thorin was called from the hoard, where he slept that night (or didn’t sleep at all, as his eyes suggested) against all efforts of his Company to get him back to his chambers.  
“What are you doing here? I told you I would not parley with armed people, and there will be no parley with Mirkwood scum at all!”  
Bard took the word.   
“Thorin Oakenshield, is there nothing you would have rather than a bit of gold that will do no difference in your hoard but that will make all difference for the Lake-Town people?”  
“I told you already compensation will come in due time, but I accept no pressure from armed people befriended to elven scum!”  
There was no way to explain that all Bard wanted was to finish business and grant Lake-Town people means to survive the winter that was at hand. The elven-king had too much influence in Lake-Town economics to be dismissed.   
“I offer what is in this shrine in exchange of its value in gold.”  
Bard said and an old man opened a small wooden box; to the dwarves’ dismay, it was the Arkenstone that shone inside of it.  
“How have you come to put your filthy hands on my heirloom? Why do you think that I will pay for what is righteously mine?” Thorin was seething.  
“If this is the means to make you reason, that is how it will be.”  
“Thieves! You stole the heirloom of my family! This grants war upon you and your people for as long as what was stolen is not returned! Who put this stone in your filthy hands?”  
A disturbed Bilbo spoke quietly at his side.  
“Actually, it was me.”  
“What?” Thorin gazed daggers into the Hobbit. “What did you do, descendant of rats?”  
“I-I gave them the Arkenstone.” Bilbo stammered. “I thought I could buy peace with this exchange.”  
The Company was at loss; Iris shook her head, wide eyed, almost to cry.  
“And how did you come to the idea that it was yours to give?” Thorin shouted now.  
“Well, you said I could choose my due one fourteenth of the treasure, so I...”  
“You bastard!” He shook Bilbo by his collar. “I wish I had Gandalf here to say him some truths!”  
The old man with the wooden box took off his hood.   
“And here he is, Thorin Oakenshield!” And truly it was Gandalf who stood there. “You can tell me the truths you believe, as long as you return me my burglar, if he is no more of your service.”  
“Take him! And take him now, before I change my mind and throw him from these walls down!”  
And with this Bilbo hurried downstairs, accompanied by Bofur and Bifur, who went to help him to open the makeshift stone door, to get him out and to close it again. Iris was with them, crying.  
“How could you, Bilbo? How could you?”  
He looked back at her, angry.  
“How could I? How could I handle this war-headed Thorin all these months long? How could I deal with orcs and goblins and spiders and wargs? You may be inclined to warfare, Iris, but I for one am not! I want peace, I want my warm hole in the Shire and to have nothing more to do with all this stuff!”  
Bofur stretched him his hand.   
“Please find a place in your heart to forgive Thorn. Óin is sure he has the gold sickness, he is not in his normal.”  
“I will find, my friend, but at a safe distance from his wrath.”  
“ _I wish you luck_.” Bifur signaled in Iglishmêk, and Bofur translated it for Bilbo.  
“I know.” They all embraced warmly. “I wish you luck too, for as long as Thorin has this sickness, you all will be in need of it!” He turned to Iris. “And you, will you forgive me?”  
She punched him lightly in the chest.   
“How could I not?”   
Bilbo held her tight to himself, kissing her red curls with a sigh.  
“It is not that I am proficient for war that I don’t prefer peace.”  
“I must go now.”

ooo000ooo

After dismissing Bilbo, Thorin rushed back to the hoard with not a wink to the rest of the Company and stayed there for the night. Bombur went to him with a plate of food in the evening and left it there, with no answer to his calling. Next morning Balin went and tried to talk to him, but came back with a grief stricken look in his eyes. Right after midday Lily heaved a sigh, exchanged some words with Ellen and left the headquarters, not looking back. She found her way to the hoard and stood at the entrance.  
“Thorin, you must rest!” Lily pleaded. “The hoard will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and all other days for the rest of you life! Please, leave it and come home!”  
“I _am_ home, woman!” He answered, an angry tone in his voice. “Every bit of Erebor is my home, from every pebble to every diamond dust I fought to retake, this is _all_ home to me!”  
Lily lowered her head, a tear glistening at the corner of her eye.  
“We _all_ fought to retake it.”  
“And all will have their share of the gold.” He retorted dryly.  
She narrowed her eyes, uplifting her face to look directly at his eyes, a knot in her throat.   
“I didn’t fight for gold; I fought for a home, Thorin, a _home_ we would share, do you remember?”  
Thorin opened his arms and weaved his hands to all the treasure around them.   
“And are we not sharing this home, Lily? This is the dream of every dwarf from Cuiviénen to Ered Luin, from Helcaraxë to Far Harad! I promised you a home that would be deserver of you, your beauty, your kindness, your youthful joy, and look, Lily, look around you! All this is ours, Lily! This is our home!”  
Thorin was so absorbed in his gold-gazing that he never knew what hit him. Later he would be notified that it was a gold candle-holder adorned with red gems, that Lily deftly threw at his head while he was looking at the piles of gold.   
“My home can even be in the wild, dear Midas, as long as you are the man I knew; but this greedy selfish gold-lover is not the one I knew, the one I learned to respect and to love.”   
He rubbed his head at the spot where the candle-holder hit him, looking confused. She continued.  
“ _My_ home is where the ones I love dwell; where are the ones you love? Where are your nephews, Thorin, your kin?”  
The dwarf looked around, perplexed. He realized it was the first time in years that Fíli and Kíli were not orbiting him. Lily had not finished yet.   
“Your best friends, where are they? Balin, Dwalin? Can you remember last time you drank an ale mug with Glóin and Óin? A wine goblet with Dori?”  
Thorin shook his head. Something was not making sense. Something was missing.  
“You used to be proud for your attention to the Company members, when was it the last time you asked about any of them? Did you know Ori had his last molar tooth erupted three days ago and was not even able to munch a bread slice? That Bombur goes down to the mushroom growth everyday just because _you_ prefer the salmon color mushrooms and they can be used only the day they are collected?”  
“Lily, I...”  
“I am not finished yet!” She cried. Weirdly enough, he didn’t react. “When they have spare time, you may see that Bofur and Nori are trying to mend some small things they are finding at your grandfather’s _home_ ; Nori is not very good at it, but he says he is still young enough to learn if Bofur is willing enough to teach; whenever you find your way _home_ , Thorin, you may be able to know what I am talking about.”  
Now he was really disturbed; it was not only the throbbing of the bruise in his head, what she said was making sense, he didn’t quite understand what was happening to him. Still, gold lust was strong in him, as a dragon had made _his home_ on that gold for too much time, and the longer he stood amongst that enchanted hoard the stronger the dragon sickness took hold on him. Smaug’s spirit tried to take hold once more, and Thorin replied harsh and biter.  
“What are you talking about? What are you doing here, at all? You are not even dwarven-born, and you are niece to an _elf_!”  
He paced angrily on the gold piles, trying to reason what was unreasonable, disqualifying Lily instead of disputing her arguments. Gold sickness overtook him.   
“You are trying to take me away from here to steal my treasure, my heirloom!”  
“I am no thief, not me nor anyone in the Company!” Lilt shouted.  
“You lie! We have a _burglar_ in the Company, _against_ my wish!”  
Lily sat on a gold pile, tired, and put her hands on her own head.   
“No, we have not. If you don’t remember, you almost threw him from the balcony yesterday. Then you sent him away to Lake-Town people.”  
Thorin didn’t remember, and had a confused look in his eyes, thought he would never concede. His memory was failing, all he could remember and think about was the hoard beneath his feet.  
“Why are you trying to take me away from what is rightfully mine?”  
Lily took in a deep breath, hoping she would manage to deal with him.   
“You are _king_. Your people _needs_ you. _I_ need you! Out there, where people are, not here, where cold gold lies.”  
“Why don’t they come here where I am instead of wanting me to go to them?”  
His tone was confused, he sounded almost like a child.  
“Thorin, take a look at yourself! You have dark circles around your eyes, your food stays untouched, you withdraw yourself from everyone and everything but these piles of metal and stone, for Durin’s sake, this is no life!”  
He was not moved. That much reasoning made him resentful to her, as the dragon sickness messed with his psyche, and he got into an anger outbreak again.   
“What do you know about life? You are a child, you have seen nothing in your life, _nothing_! You don’t know the blood smell of a battlefield, you don’t know what it is to cremate your brother, to se your grandfather beheaded, to...” His voice faltered. “Why are you trying to take me away from what is rightfully mine? This is _my_ inheritance, _my_ treasure, _my_ hoard!” Thorin shouted at her. “ _What are you doing here_?”  
She stood up, a cold anger piercing through her deep sea blue eyes.   
“I was looking for the one I love, for the one that said he loved me too. But he is nowhere to be found, so I’m leaving.”  
Lily turned to the wide door and started to walk away.  
“You can leave and come as you wish, you are a free citizen of Erebor.”  
“You don’t understand.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I am not just leaving this dragon cursed place, I am leaving _you_.”  
Thorin heard her, unwilling to believe. It could not be! She could not forsake him, he could not lose her!   
“No! You cannot! Lily! Don’t leave me! Lily, you will break my heart!”  
He ran to her, stumbling in the slippery gold, falling down once, retaking his footing and struggling on. He was far into the treasure room and she was close to the door while they argued, and now she was already gone. Her last words echoed in his head, hurting, cutting all other thoughts out of him, and then he heard her answer his latest complaint and her now running feet taking her away from him.  
“You already broke _mine_ , Thorin Oakenshield!”  
He stopped at the end of the corridor, trying to guess where to she would have gone. There was the sound of a muffled cry at his right, and he went after it. That passageway would lead to the Mahal temple, and they didn’t explore that area yet, she didn’t know where she was going to, she was just running away from him. His Lily flower was fleeing from him! What had he done? The pain in his head was spreading like a dense wave of a biter honey, blurring everything but his search for Lily. He shouted her name, and his own voice echoed back. He was at the temple, at last, but she was nowhere to be seen. The light of late afternoon filtered through the high dome windows, reflecting on the dusty mirrors and spreading some light around, light enough for his dwarven eyes to search for her, but there was not a clue of where she could be.  
“Lily!”  
Thorin walked carefully around the place, searching every corner, every shrine, to no avail. He couldn’t see her, but he was sure she was there, he could almost feel her warmth, and called her name once in while, feeling miserable and lost; then he looked up at the huge Mahal carving, a hammer in his hand raised as if to strike. The pain he felt flowed from his head to his neck and shoulders too, it was getting hard to bear; having Mahal’s hammer to fall on his chest would be a mercy. Mercy!  
“Mahal! Mercy! Bring Lily back! Don’t let her break my heart!”  
His voice was crackled with pain when the once proud king knelt before the carving of his Maker and rested his forehead and hands on the stone floor.  
“Mercy! I give up everything that took Lily away from me, that took my kin and my friends away; I was wrong, I was wronged by that accursed dragon gold! I give up every single coin that tempted me, if only I can have Lily by me! Mercy!”  
Thorin’s rambunctious sobs echoed in the wide temple; he had broken the heart of his Jewel, and its shards had pierced his own. The pain of losing the one to which his soul was intertwined was overwhelming, like if a physical part of himself had been cut away but death didn’t take him to release him from his suffering.  
A light touch on the back of his outstretched hand startled him and he quickly uplifted his head, to find Lily’s pain struck eyes locked with his; her face was wet and dirty, like his own must be too, having sobbed on the dusty floor. He reached a tentative hand to her face, and his trembling fingers touched her cheekbone and the delicate braid of her beard. Her voice was barely a whisper.  
“Are you back?”  
“Are you?” Thorin’s voice trembled; Lily nodded slightly and reached for his hair, his beard, blinking the wetness of her eyes away. “Are you able to forgive me?”  
“You were sick. It was not you.”  
“I... I broke your heart; how can I mend it?”  
His eyes held a rueful look, too afraid to hope; she reached for his hand and brought it to her waist, getting closer to him, her eyes pleading.  
“Make me whole! Make me yours!”  
He looked at her glittering eyes and knew she meant it; his sense of honor still tried to protest, on her behalf.   
“We shouldn’t...”  
“Thorin... war is at hand... we can be dead tomorrow... forget customs and traditions, we have Mahal to bless us, and that is enough.”  
Thorin kissed her fiercely, embracing her with all his might, and she kissed him back hungrily, caressing his back and rejoycing in the warmth of his mouth. She didn’t protest when his trembling hand reached under her chemise, nor did he when she untied the neckpiece of his warm mantle; actually, he took it and spread it on a patch of the floor where there seemed to be less dust and sat her there. He shook his head, apologizing.   
“And I promised you linen sheets...”  
“And I said that as long as you were who you were, nothing else mattered.” He untied her boots and put them along with his. “Now you are yourself again, and nothing else matters.”  
The secluded temple had no air drifts, but winter was there outside, and they took Lily’s mantle over them to keep their warmth; as a matter of fact, it didn’t take long for them to dismiss it as completely unnecessary. They had hungered for each other for months already, and now they quenched their thirst in each others sweat, intermingled their scents, and spent themselves one in behalf of the other, crying together their long restrained desire.  
The light was fading when they finally took a rest, panting hard, her hand playing with the curly hair on his chest, where ages before she tended the warg bite; he caressed her shoulders, breathing in the scent of her hair, and sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the Vala who created his people. His pain was gone, his mind was clear, his heart was resolute, but his conscience told him he had done much wrong while struggling with the gold sickness; actually, it told him that if he had struggled more he could, maybe, have won the battle between his irrational yearning for gold and his rational king mind; but, what was done, was done, for good or evil, and all he could do was to try to make amends to what was possible. He kissed Lily’s forehead, as he used to before gold lust overtook him.  
“How do you feel, my wild Lily flower?”  
She gazed into his eyes, a new fire within.  
“Whole. Unbroken. And unbreakable.”


	34. Chapter 34 – Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hmm, maybe we could fish something for dinner, it would be nice to have fresh meat.”  
> “Why didn’t you think of it sooner? It looks like a good time to search for a spot fishes gather, like amongst those rocks close to the beach.”  
> “Of course it is impossible to see underwater, but if we manage to see where the fish jumped, we would have a place to start with.”  
> Then it jumped out of the water, and it was no fish at all.  
> “Durin save me!”

Thorin knew his own folk uses well enough to find a fire making kit close to a torch at the temple’s entrance. He lit it and they made their way back to the main corridor that led to the treasure halls one way and to their dwellings in the opposite way. He didn’t even take a look to the treasure way, holding his head upright, bold, self-possessed, hand in hand with his fiancée, who rescued him out of the darkness of dragon madness and to whom he swore never to hurt again. They headed for the Company’s headquarters, as Thror’s house was turned into, and he used that time to question her what he could about his clouded minded days.  
“When you spoke about the Company members, I don’t recall you mentioning Bifur. How is he faring?”  
“Depressed. He says he came to fight, not to stay besieged, and that he would rather die in battlefield than to grow mushrooms in his ears while waiting.”  
He smiled, proud of her.   
“You have improved your Iglishmêk, I see.”  
“Why do you say this?”  
“You used your free hand to accompany your words while you were talking about Bifur.” She smiled back. “And your family? Iris must be mad at me if I made Bilbo go away. I must mend this, the sooner the better.”  
“Iris is angrier at Aunt and me than at you. She cannot see her relationship with Bilbo has no bedrock, they are in love but it is more an infatuation than anything, at least it is so that me and Aunt, who know Iris since she was born, perceive it.”  
“And your aunt, how is she faring?”  
“She is working together with her brothers and your nephews to keep the Company united and focused, albeit your sickness. I deem the Fundinul children are everything a king could want to support him, but I’m Ellen’s niece, so my opinion is suspect.”  
They were getting close to the headquarters when he took her by surprise, pulled her to a wall and kissed her fiercely, rubbing his hands on her arms, breasts and hips, much to her delight. He took a deep breath in and spoke quietly to her.  
“No one has to fancy you are less than completely honorable to be at my side; your reputation must be as untouchable as mine, if we are to be respected by my people, and I’m not speaking about the Company, but about everyone who will be coming from Ered Luin and other places.”  
Lily looked up at him, agreeing with a nod, and then he said something that startled her.  
“I know I’m not your First, as you are not my First; but none else has to know it.”  
She looked at her feet, a bit ashamed, but what else could she do? They were risen worlds apart. Thorin uplifted her chin with a finger, making her look up at him.   
“And I don’t care if I am not your First, because I know I am your Last. Understood?”  
“Yes.”

ooo000ooo

Ellen was beginning to worry about Lily when the sun was about to set; she had gone to the Hoard, to try to talk some sense into Thorin’s skull, hours ago, and asked for no one to go after her. She was stretching the pizza dough to show Bombur how to make it when they heard a buzz in the living room, and shouts of joy. Kíli run into the kitchen to call them, panting, wide eyed.  
“Uncle is back! Aunty brought him back!”  
“Great Mahal and Varda be thanked!”  
The elf clasped her hands, closing her eyes. As her memory changed in after the transposing of worlds, the name of Holiness that she was used to spell changed to the different faces that it assumed in that world. A smiling Kíli put a hand around her waist and led her to the living room where the others were already.  
“So, now we are almost all here.” Thorin smiled at them, albeit his eyes were as if carved deep in his face. “Company!” A dead silence fell on the room. “No king deserves this title if he is not king on himself.” Uncomfortable shuffles on the floor. They were not used to him being so self-exposing. “I have failed you. I have been weak and I have been a fool. This fault is solely mine, and I am the one who has to suffer the consequences of my own faults.” More disturbed looks. “I have it deep engraved in my heart that my sickness is over, and stronger than any oath of honor and loyalty from a person to a king is the oath of honor and loyalty a king must swear to his own people. I hold none of you tied to your oaths of old, but I renew my own oath to you, and I ask for your forgiveness for my weakness. Whomever doesn’t feel comfortable to follow my lead is free to go at will, and will forever be welcome back, if I deserve it.”  
Dwalin left the circle and faced Thorin. He was one that had gone to the hoard several times, trying to coax Thorin to get out of there, to eat, to sleep, to resume his life without the dragon cursed gold to command him, and who came back empty handed all those times. He took Thorin’s neckpiece in both hands, menacingly. The tension built around them.  
Then they hit foreheads like brothers.  
The crew cheered up, and took it as a sign to hug and grab and tickle and poke their king, and there was joy and laughter in those halls like it hadn’t been since the dragon came. Everyone had something to tell or to show him, everyone was glad to have him back.  
Óin and Glóin managed to fix and better some plumbing issues and now the headquarters had hot water in the bath tubes, as long as Bombur kept the fire in the kitchen on for at least three hours; Nori and Bofur found out they thought alike in some matters and rearranged a set of mirrors originally meant for light spreading and now they could be used to communicate from the watch post in the balcony to the headquarters, and vice-versa; Bifur and Dwalin made a selection of weaponry and armor fitted for all the Company members, and Dori ordered them so they could be chosen from easily without wasting any time; Ori retraced the floorplans of the halls that had major damage, and from the balcony made some sketches from the surroundings that would be useful if they had to go to war; Fíli, Kíli and Iris spent their time making small gunpowder bombs that could be thrown by hand, while Balin, Lily and Ellen twisted their minds trying to find a solution to the dead-lock the upcoming war presented them.  
What was to be up cheering suddenly made Thorin look troubled and to stay silent. Lily noticed it at once.  
“What is wrong, my king?”  
“Don’t call me your king, my Lily flower; you all are so self-sufficient you don’t need a king.”  
“It only means you are good enough a king to choose the best, and to make your subjects do what they have to do even in your absence. If this is not kingship, I don’t know what it should be called.”  
He smiled.  
“You bring out the best in me.”  
“And you bring out the best in everyone around you.”  
Bombur called everyone to taste his first pizza ever, and slices were delivered to everyone. Thorin tasted a four-cheese slice.  
“I must make amends, quickly. I must call for Bilbo and Gandalf at the first sun in the morning. And Bard. And I must do it without to give notice to Thranduil.”  
“This might be difficult; he has a very strong influence in Lake-Town matters.”  
“And, by my own fault, I don’t have a halfling burglar anymore to wander at will in any battleground.”  
“You may not have a halfling burglar, but still you have a halfling at your service. Nonetheless.”  
Thorin looked up startled at Iris’ cold voice. He was sure she was completely distressed by his previous attitudes, and now she was there, hurt sky blue eyes, offering her services. He felt sure he didn’t deserve her loyalty, but thanked Mahal for it. He stood up and bowed low in front of the hobbit-lass.   
“If you find me worthy of asking for you favor, Lady Iris, I’d be most honored to count on your service.”  
Her answer was quite simple.   
“Everybody makes some mess in live, sometime. Who am I to judge you?” She stuck another pizza slice whole in her mouth and asked, mouth full. “What do you want me to tell them?”

ooo000ooo

Bofur accompanied Bombur at his daily duty of collecting mushrooms, them both happy for being sure this time Thorin would eat them. Right before sunrise was the best hour of the day to collect the mushrooms he liked best, so they bore a torch to lit their way. Bombur suppressed his shivers when passing along the Tomb Stone. When it was just the Tomb Stone of some unknown person with some strange scribblings on it, he didn’t care at all; but now it was related to another perilous world, from where the “turmoil trio” had come. Could that stone be more than a Tomb Stone? Nor even Ellen managed to understand its writings beyond the first line.  
They filled a basket with a collection of different mushrooms, thinking it was a shame Bilbo wasn’t there anymore; Bofur wished Thorin would made amends, now that he was himself again. They could be held besieged for ages as long as there were mushrooms, and there was enough to feed a whole dwarven city. Bombur paced along the Tomb Stone again, trying to focus on the lunch menu, which was meant to be somewhat festive for their king’s return, at least as much as it was possible being besieged. Maybe Thorin would negotiate peace, but, no, there was the elven-king, no way Thorin would reason about him. The red bearded dwarf was about to put the torch out when they heard a splash.   
Bombur kept the torch in his hand and they looked back at Mirror Lake. Its perfectly reflexive waters wavered; there was no wind to stir its surface.  
“It could have been a fish, couldn’t it, brother?”  
They got closer to the water. They were not members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield to be afraid of a jumping fish.   
“Hmm, maybe we could fish something for dinner, it would be nice to have fresh meat.”  
“Why didn’t you think of it sooner? It looks like a good time to search for a spot fishes gather, like amongst those rocks close to the beach.”  
“Of course it is impossible to see underwater, but if we manage to see where the fish jumped, we would have a place to start with.”  
Then it jumped out of the water, and it was no fish at all.  
“Durin save me!”   
Bombur cried out loud, wide-eyed. The not-a-fish gasped for air, struggled to keep himself above the surface, blinked to shake the water from his eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. Then he headed for the beach, and when close to the margin he took his step with the help of a staff and walked out of the water, carrying a thoroughly soaked green backpack on his shoulders; he wiped the water that still dripped from his hair and face and looked at Bombur holding the torch. Maybe not having any light with them would have been wiser, but it was too late now. The tall stranger approached the dwarves and with a deliberate and respectful gesture bowed himself low.  
“I am Wolfram, son of Nyda, at your service!”  
The red-bearded dwarf staggered.   
“I-I am Bombur, and m-my brother here is Bofur.”  
“At your service and your family’s!” Bofur completed. He almost couldn’t believe he heard the name he heard. “And I mean it!”  
The man blinked.   
“Bofur? Bombur? From the Company of Thorin Oakenshield?”  
“Yes, man, that is it!” Bofur was less scared than Bombur and noticed the resemblance from the man to their elf. “And you, from out of the circles of Arda, right?”  
“Yes, so it seems.” He wringed his clothes where he could reach them while speaking. “What year is this, in the more commonly used calendar? The one that refers to the ages...”  
“2941 of the Third Age, sir. Can we help you? At least to get some dry clothes, else you catch a cold. It is winter outside.”  
“I thank you very much! It was summer were I came from, believe me or not.”  
“You can bet a tuna can we believe, mister!”  
Wolfram thought it a strange thing to bet, but just shook his head.  
“Can you take me to your leader?”  
“Sure! Follow us, there are long stairs to climb to our headquarters.”  
The stranger was a bit groggy from the transition, it was obvious, and they offered to help him carry his backpack. Bombur spoke quietly to his brother in Khuzdul.   
“Are you crazy? Leading this stranger to our headquarters?”  
“Of course I’m not crazy, didn’t you hear who he is?”  
“I guess I was too scared to understand what he said, I didn’t figure out who he is.”  
“You moron, have you not heard the girls introducing themselves times enough?”  
“Of course I have, they are Lily and Iris, daughters of...” Then it hit him. “Then he is Thorin’s father in law!”  
Bofur chuckled.   
“And Kíli’s brother-in-law, by the way!”  
They stopped for the man to catch up with them. Albeit his long shanks, he was weary and groggy from the transition and whatever adventure he had had before getting through the Gate in the lake and was having trouble to match the steady pace of the dwarves, more used to that amount of stairs.  
“Do we tell him now?”  
“No, let him have the surprise!”  
“I bet he will faint.”  
“One gold piece that he will scream!” The man came closer to them, panting. “Hey, fellow, what business brings you here to our humble halls?”  
“I really don’t know if I am at the right place, mister, but at least I’m at the right world. You may deem it absurd, but I’m looking for my family, I believe they got lost in Middle-Earth and the only way I knew to get in here was the Mekhem Lamâb (1).”  
They eyed him with surprise.   
“Hmm, versed in Khuzdul, are you?”  
“Not really. Just half a dozen words. It is hard to learn your secret language when you are not a dwarf.”  
“And what is your family like? We have wandered from Ered Luin to here and met a lot of people, maybe we can help you.” Bofur was enjoying his joke.  
“They are my two daughters, the younger one is Iris Glory, a teenager brat who speaks too much and is always ready for a mischief, she is red haired, sky blue eyes, about this tall.”   
He showed with his hand on the middle of his chest. The dwarves smiled at the almost perfect picture of their friend, weren’t it for the height.   
“The oldest is Lily Grace, she has brown hair, dark blue eyes, a sweetie, good hearted but gets easily distracted, a bit taller than Iris.”   
Bombur chuckled thinking what Wolfram would think of the “bit” Lily was taller than Iris now, or, actually, that Iris was shorter than Lily.   
“And then there is my sister, Ellen, she is tall, brown haired, gray blue eyes, stubborn, good willed, has a knack of making people do what must be done.”  
“And has it been long that you lost them, mister?”  
“About a month ago; they went for a hike and didn’t reach the camp they were going to.” The dwarves thought it strange, as the women joined the Company several months ago, already. “When they didn’t come back ten days later I called forest police to try to find them, and they spent more ten days to say they could not be found. At this time I was completely distressed and begun to think what could possible have happened to them, then I remembered they would use a map that was in my library, and my library has some maps that aren’t quite, hmm, ordinary, then I checked out and found out they got one of these. That’s how I found out that they should be in Middle-Earth, but then I had to find a way to get here myself to rescue them, and it took me some more days. The problem now is that I don’t know where they could possibly be!”  
Bombur nodded.   
“Yes, Middle-Earth is a wide world to get lost.”  
“And full of perils, too, I must warn you.” Bofur was having fun in scaring the stranger, just as he did with Bilbo about Smaug. “There are orcs, and goblins, and giant spiders, and wargs, and until some days ago there was even a dragon!”  
“Dragon?” Wolfram stopped and leaned on the wall, dizzy again. “Yes, there was a dragon! He was killed by a Lake-Town man with a black arrow!”  
“How can you possibly know it?”  
It was time for the dwarves to get startled.  
“I remember... I have read this story, several times. But... I cannot remember how it ends!”  
The brothers didn’t know about Ellen’s “possible past” memories, as it was know only by Thorin, his nephews and the Fundinul brothers, who kept this knowledge to themselves, so as not to alarm the crew. Bofur felt baffled, as he tried to scare Wolfram and now the scared one was him.   
“What more do you know?”  
“I don’t know... Wait! Is Thorin all right? I mean, he has the gold sickness, hasn’t he?”  
“Well, he had, but he was cured by his bride!”  
“That is good news!” He started to mumble to himself. “But, wait, then the story is different from what I know. He had no bride at all in the book, actually no woman is mentioned in the book. What can possibly have changed the story?”  
“Hey, fellow, we are almost there.”  
The approached the door with the two huge stone statues lining it.  
“Welcome to the halls of Erebor and to the home of Thorin Oakenshield!”  
Bombur lead him inside the main living room and Wolfram screamed, and then fainted, dropping his staff. Bofur cursed in Khuzdul to his brother.   
“Tie!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 – Mekhem Lamâb could be translated as Gate of Passage, I hope.


	35. Chapter 35 – The Storm Approaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Considering that actually Iris killed the Goblin King...”  
> “ _What_?”  
>  Wolfram wide eyes showed his astonishment.  
> “He called me _puppy_.”

Wolfram woke up to see his first impression was true. His sister was now black-haired and had pointed ears; her oldest daughter had grown a side-beard and shrunken almost one foot, and the youngest had hairy feet and was a bit more than three feet tall. A solicitous Bombur handled him a cup of water and left the room, while he sat and tried to shake the dizziness out of his head.  
“What, in name of goodness, is happening here?”  
“Welcome to Erebor, my brother! And what a lucky meeting, indeed!”  
“Sister! Girls! You are alive! I found you! I was so afraid I would never find you again! What happened? Why didn’t you take your cell phones with you? I’ve got almost crazy not having means to contact you!”  
“Why would we carry extra weight if we were going to a park where there would be no network?”  
The man shook his head at this and the women condensed the story for it not to take too long, and as they spoke it was becoming clear Wolfram’s memory had the same blockage they had – he remembered things that already had come to be, but had no hint of the future.  
“Vinnie warned me that some Gates have this effect, some faster, some slower, so this is not completely unexpected.”  
“You say for yourself, brother! Who is this Vinnie?”  
“A friend of mine from NerdNet who helped me to get here.”  
“What is _NerdNet_?”  
“A bunch of friends that have, huh, some knowledge about weird things, so to say.”  
“I never heard about them! Why didn’t you tell me about this NerdNet stuff? Why didn’t I ever hear about it?”  
“You are not nerd enough, dear!”  
“I’ll take this as an insult!”  
“Usually, it is not you that hear about the NerdNet, it is the NerdNet that finds you.” His enigmatic smile was priceless. “Well, when I found out you had taken the enchanted map, I put all efforts in finding another Gate and rescue you; I had a lot of help.”  
“So you _knew_ what this map could do? And left it on the table like any crap of paper?”  
“Who would imagine someone would take it?”  
An uncomfortable silence fell on them as they glanced at Iris, who was suddenly interested in a certain curl of the hair on her left foot.   
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I found you, we can go home now.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“To go home. Back to our world. What’s the matter?”  
“Ah, brother, I think we must make something clear first. All this time we spent here in Middle-Earth we have come to... we became very close to someones... if you take my meaning.”  
“No, I don’t. What do you mean?”  
“Me and Lily are compromised to certain dwarves. We will have our weddings in less than a year from now. We will not go back.”  
“ _You what_?”  
“We will not go back. I’m betrothed to Kíli...”  
“What happened to your ‘ _out of business_ ’ state?”  
“...and Lily is Thorin’s bride. Or who do you think rescued him from gold sickness?”  
Wolfram shook his head between his hands.   
“I think I’ll faint again! This is most definitely interfering in other reality! The NerdNet guys will kill me, we have a compromise of non-interference!”  
Ellen laughed.   
“No, they won’t! It is not _you_ who interfered, it was _us_ and we don’t have any compromise with them.”  
“But the map was in _my_ possession.”  
“Hmm, well, then I think that yes, they will want to kill you, brother. At least you will have the excuse that our interference is resulting in better things than would have happened without us.”  
“Yes, for what I remember, you might be right. There will be the paradox of having changed what Tolkien wrote, but as he was one who used a time-travel Gate, the paradox was already set, somehow. The guys will have to cope.”  
“Well, anyway, it would be most indelicate to leave at once, Wolf. We must introduce you to the Company, I am sure you will want to talk to your son-in-law, I want you to know you brother-in-law, and I did I mention that I was adopted?”  
“My head is swirling, but I’m happy for you!”  
His smile was sincere.  
“And for me, Father?”  
Lily’s deep sea blue eyes looked for his approval. He took her hands in his.  
“Be sure it is not what I believed would ever happen, but what father would not be proud of having his daughter chosen by a king? Even if it seems to have come out of a fairy-tale. Anyway, I know some fairy-tales are true.” Then a curiosity came over him. “And you, Iris? You are so quiet, what is disturbing you? Is there something you want to tell me? Or someone?”  
She was munching her own lips for a while, already.   
“No, Daddy, I have no kings nor princes in my hobbit life. Actually, Fíli and Kíli are my Little Brothers, but this is not the same as being fully adopted like Aunty was by Balin and Dwalin. All I have to declare is a boyfriend completely fixed in going back to his home in the Shire.”  
“Bilbo Baggins!” Wolfram stated with delight. “This name is bound to be remembered, just don’t ask me why! I’ll be proud to shake his hand, albeit I don’t know why, but I will when I go home again, I suppose.”  
There was a small knock at the door and Dori peeped his head in.   
“Dearest, the ones we were waiting for have come; will you be able to join this meeting?”  
“Sure, Dori, we are going at once.”   
Ellen turned to her brother.   
“Please join us, Wolfram, there will be no time for more time-taking introductions right now, it will come in time, but we girls _must_ attend this meeting.”  
He agreed and went with his family to the main living room.

ooo000ooo

Besides the Company, with Bilbo back, there were Gandalf and Bard. Legolas sent word that he was on their side, or, better saying, on the side of peace, and agreed that his father’s claims were undue; he swore to Gandalf that he would make his best to change Thranduil’s mind.  
Thorin humbly asked for Bilbo’s forgiveness, and the hobbit not only accepted his apologies but also asked for Thorin’s, acknowledging his share of responsibility in the mess that happened. The king didn’t explain openly why or how he made up his mind to give up his due gold, but he agreed that, in solely exchange for the Arkenstone, whatever was needed for Lake-Town to be rebuilt would be provided from his share, as well as arrangements would be made to rebuild Dale, as it was destroyed by Smaug in his attack to Erebor. Bard was having a hard time believing that the dwarven king, held by his people as greedy and proud, was really that changed and willing to make all those amends. Actually, Thorin’s own Company was quite confused, still trying to understand to what measure his change had gone. The king was free to explain.  
“I’ve learned that sometimes we must give up things once important for the sake of others, that are better.”   
Thorin’s wink to Ellen went almost inconspicuous to most of them.  
“Well, and what will we do about the elven king?” It was pragmatic Ellen who asked. “I’m sorry for Lake-Town’s economic dependence from him, but he has no claim over us.”   
“I understand if Lake-Town people assume a neutral position in this, but no help will be handled if you take side with Thranduil, Bard. I hope you understand.”  
Thorin was the diplomatic one now.  
“For my part it is clear, o King Under the Mountain. But, even if I speak as a general, and many people hold me as their leader, Lake-Town still answers to the Master, and he is as greedy as the elven king. I can make no promises in their name.”  
“No, you can’t, master Bard.” Gandalf voiced slowly. “Thranduil must be handled another way.”  
“And which way would it be, wizard?”  
“This answer is yet to come.”  
“As to come is the army of my cousin Dáin Ironfoot. I’ll make no war against Lake-Town people, as long as this people stay neutral, but also I’ll suffer no siege from Mirkwood people in my own home.”  
Wolfram got alarmed and tilted his head to Ellen to whisper.   
“Are they talking about actual _war_? People killing people? I thought men and dwarves and elves were civilized peoples!”  
She answered in the same hushed tone.  
“Brother, here in Middle-Earth _this_ is civilization. If you want to know what barbarism is, go make friends with the goblins.”  
The man shook his head, wide eyed, in response.  
They were at this dilemma when they were startled by Nori’s mirror set gleaming a message. They didn’t figure out a complete code to use it yet, and Ellen was about to ask Wolfram if he could leave her a Morse code schema, but what they had settled upon was enough for them to know they were been called to the balcony. Someone was there to talk to them.

ooo000ooo

“Hail, Roäc, son of Carc, may your feathers never fall!”  
“Hail, Thorin Oakenshield, old fellow! Do you have any cookies in you pocket?”  
Wolfram shook his head not only for hearing that big raven talk but also because of the informality of his speech, which Thorin seemed not to mind at all. Well, if he was used to his daughters’ way of speaking, he would not mind the bird either.  
Thorin produced a cookie and handled it to the raven.  
“You will end up fat and slow as a snail.”  
“I thank you for your compliments.”  
Roäc ate the cookie in no moment at all.  
“What brings you here, o nobler of all ravens?”  
“A bit of gossip, as usual.” The bird crooked his head in search of another cookie. “The black cloud that comes from the North is not bound to any storm you may feel washing upon your faces; it is a vast cloud of that stupid crows who feast in battle fields, and of bats who serve darker designs; dread has come upon your all!”  
Roäc’s listeners looked at him in dismay; for their watch post looked everywhere but to the North, and from forth destruction was being announced. Making sure he had their rapt attention, Roäc went on.  
“Do you have more cookies?”  
Thorin put a hand in his pocket and when Roäc was about to stoop for it the dwarf grabbed the bird’s neck.  
“I have three cookies for you, _old fellow_. One is named _who_ , the other is _how many_ , and the third is _when_. You _sing_ , and I give you the cookies.”  
The raven was taken by surprise, but seemed to be a bit amused by Thorin’s quick response, and answered in good mood.   
“You will have many hosts of Azog’s orcs and bands of goblins around your mountain before this night is over, o King Under the Mountain, that your beard grows with no frills!”  
“How much is _many_?”  
“I am one, you are two, your friends are three, and all of us are many, o mighty Thorin!” The bird tilted his head. “Does this mean another cookie?”  
Wolfram turned to Ellen in a whisper.   
“Not even ravens this set are able to count above three?”  
She replied as quietly as he asked.   
“And is any other set of bird able to count anything at all?”  
Thorin put a generous handful of Bombur’s cookies on the battlement and thanked the raven. Gandalf turned to the whole assembly of dwarves, hobbits, elf and men.  
“There is yet time for council. We must send word to Dáin that his enemy is other than he was summoned to fight against, and to Thranduil that now is the time when he might show his valor as representative of one of the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth! Let us haste!”

ooo000ooo

They didn’t go back to the camp at once, as Gandalf intended to speak a bit more with the newcomer first, albeit his haste. Wolfram was properly introduced to the Company as Ellen’s twelve year older brother and Lily and Iris’s father, but then the grey wizard greeted him in a way that surprised them all.  
“Welcome to the circles of Arda, Wolfram the Green!”  
“What do you mean?” Asked a surprised Wolfram, wide eyed.  
“It was about time for Yavanna to send one more of hers to help in the struggle.”  
“Sorry, sir, but there must be some mistake. I was born human, to human parents, and even passing through the Gate I kept human, do you see? I have no memory of anything that is not related to my human life, I never went to Valinor, I’m an awful singer, so, no way, no chance that I am even remotely related to anything about your order!”  
Gandalf smiled, amused.   
“And where did you hear me say otherwise?”  
“Uh, when you mention Yavanna sending someone of hers?”  
“And do you think she cannot chose a champion elsewhere instead of sending personally someone from Valinor?”  
Wolfram looked down, confused.   
“Uh, she could at least have asked?”  
The grey wizard laughed.  
“You can bet a tuna can she has, and that you agreed to it, even if you were not aware of who she was at that time.”  
Thorin was greatly interested in the matter.   
“So it comes that we will have two wizards at our side in this battle? This will be splendid!”  
The man seemed to be in panic, weaving ‘ _no_ ’ with his hands, wide eyed. Gandalf came in his rescue.  
“Sorry, Thorin, but my colleague here has no training at all. It would be dangerous for us all to have him wielding his staff, and for what I reckon he has no fighting training at all, isn’t it so? Not even the training these three ladies had when we knew them.”  
“Yes, it is, I have no training, no skill, no desire to be in a battlefield, so you don’t worry, I’ll stay here out of the way with the girls, all right?”  
Thorin and Gandalf exchanged looks, but said nothing to him about his last statement. It would be for the women to talk to him about this issue.  
With this settled Gandalf and Bard left Erebor to council with elves and men, having already planned with Thorin and Roäc having been sent to inform Dáin and his people of the change of the tide.  
Wolfram had a private conversation with Thorin and his nephews, as he wanted at least to know a bit more about the ones who captured the hearts of two of the most important persons in his life, and Fíli wouldn’t be out of this for nothing on earth; what Wolfram heard left him more at ease, but the distance was something he would have to cope yet.  
“I understand your worries, o Wolfram the Green, but I swear your daughter will be treated as a queen. As a matter of fact, she _will be_ a queen.”  
“And then, there is the Gate of Passage, isn’t it?” Kíli offered. “If you came through it once, you can come again to visit us!”  
“Yes, this is a good idea, though it is not a very easy passage for one not used to dive. But this Gate doesn’t stay open all the time, I was very lucky indeed to find it open at all, or at least so my friend Vinie told me. Also, there is a time mismatch, for what I can reckon they adventured here in Middle-Earth for close to seven months while in my world only four weeks have passed.”  
“We’ve seen people that seem to be from your world in the depths of Mirkwood; maybe there is another Gate, too.” Fíli added. Wolfram took this note.  
“I will try to find it out with my NerdNet fellows.”  
“It would be an honor to have you present at our weddings.” Thorin stated. “Think kindly about this, and if there is any open Gate for you to come, our humble halls will always be open for you, master Wolfram. We really mean it.”  
They shook hands warmly, and the dwarves went to finish preparations for the upcoming battle.

ooo000ooo

Until close to sunset, Wolfram didn’t quite understand that albeit his offering to stay back with the _girls_ , the _girls_ did not intend to stay at home at all. After looking with interest all weaponry preparations the dwarves were making, he went back to the headquarters and found them three full armored with Erebor’s finest, from silver wrought helms to mithril chainmail hauberks, from lightweighed steel vambraces to perfectly articulated pauldrons. Lily was rearranging her quivers for a better balance and Iris and Ellen were sharpening their swords.  
“What do you think you are doing?”  
“The same everyone in the Company we belong to is doing, brother. Setting up for battle.”  
“No way! You are not going to this battle, what are you thinking?”  
“Dad, we are not the little princess dolls you think! We are capable, and we won’t leave the Company without our aid!” Complained Lily.  
“What aid? You are two urban twentieth-first century girls, one of them a _teenager_ , with no experience in warfare at all; let’s war be made by warriors if it has to be made at all!”  
“Sorry, brother, but I think you are not quite informed yet.”  
Ellen paced in front of him, trying to reason, although understanding his resistance. She counted on her fingers.  
“Considering that actually Iris killed the Goblin King...”  
“ _What_?”  
Wolfram wide eyes showed his astonishment.  
“He called me _puppy_.” Was the girl simple explanation.  
“... and Lily shot an arrow in Smaug’s eye...”  
“ _You_ did it?”   
The girl just nodded at him.  
“... I’d rather say they gathered training and experience enough in the last months to grant them good odds in a battle.”  
“Ellen, how can you possibly say such a thing? You cannot put yourself and my daughters at risk because of a war that is not yours, in a _world_ that is not yours! Please!”  
“Wolf, you can say this is not _your_ world, but, sorry, now it is indeed _my_ world, and it is _my folk_ going to war!”  
“You can answer for yourself, but not for my daughters!”  
Wolfram was really angry, but his little princesses had become strangers to him; or, better saying, they had acquired the attitude he hoped them to have, but in a time and place where this could be far more dangerous than he could account for.  
“Your first-born daughter is bride to the _king_ , and a proud shield-maiden!” The dwarf-lass defended herself. “I would be ashamed if left at home sewing shrouds for my companions!”  
“And you, Iris? Holly Eru, you are just sixteen!”  
The hobbit girl unsheathed her twin swords and made them sing in her hands with movements almost too fast for him to follow with his eyes.  
“Twenty-five in hobbit age, actually.” Iris had her face calm as a dam ready to burst. “You know, my father taught me an old German moto that said ‘ _One does evil enough when one does nothing good_ ’. Now here I am at the crossroads of doing something good or of doing nothing.” She stopped and sheathed the swords without even looking at the scabbards, and then locked her sky blue eyes with Wolfram. “Which road does my father counsel me to take?”  
The man shook his head. He understood their points of view, but being just dropped into Middle-Earth and the dwarven struggles, he was still an outsider, just trying to protect his family. Wolfram was still trying to find a way they could be safe without actually fighting, but helping in the battle anyway because it was the _right_ thing to do, when they heard the sound of horns in the distance.   
“What is this?”  
He had no time to get an answer. Bombur’s favorite frying pan, deftly wielded by Ellen, clanged on his head and sent him to the world of dreams, where he could philosophize as much as he wanted.  
“Sorry, brother, but we have no time for negotiation right now.”  
The elf turned to the girls.  
“He will be fine, I’ve done it before. Let’s put him in a bed and do what has to be done.”

ooo000ooo

Wolfram woke up with a light headache and for a moment didn’t remember why. Actually, he didn’t even remember where he was, but it came back to his mind quite quickly. He sat up in the bed, worried, looking around searching for his daughters and sister; none of them was to be seen, not them nor any dwarf, hobbit, wizard, whatever. Then he stood up, trying to find his way in the strange place, got to the living room and found a note on the main table, addressed to him in her sister’s angular handwriting.

> “Dearest brother,  
> I’m sorry for having hit you (again!), but there is a dirty job to be done out there and somebody has to do it.  
> While we are at ‘work’, I ask you please to forgive us, because there is really no way we can be out of this battle. As I tried to explain, this war is ours to the last consequences.  
> I ask you also to please use your language knowledge to translate the attached file, oops, I mean, the paper sheet under this one, because I believe you are the only living person in Middle-Earth able to read it. I know the first line says “Long and prosperous life” in Esperanto, but from the remaining text all I could figure out is the word “Klingon”, so, as you are the Trekkie of the family, I hope you can figure out what it says. This is what is written on the Tomb Stone close to the Mirror Lake from where you came into Middle-Earth; I hope it may have instructions of how to use the Gate of Passage to go back.  
> Pray for us.  
> Love for ever,  
> Ellen Fundinul”


	36. Chapter 36 – The Battle of Five Armies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No! No! Not Kíli, no!”  
> “He is bleeding too much, try to stop it!” Lily cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sad chapter, but it is not the end.
> 
> 000OOO000
> 
> And I'd give up forever to touch you  
> 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
> You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
> And I don't want to go home right now  
> And all I can taste is this moment  
> And all I can breathe is your life  
> And sooner or later it's over  
> I just don't want to miss you tonight  
> (Goo Goo Dolls – Iris)

War had come at last to the Lonely Mountain. Goblins and Orcs led by Azog the Defiler, with his son Bolg at his side, against Dwarves and Elves and Men. Following Elrond’s speech, Thranduil reasoned that the enemy of your enemy is your friend, and few enemies had the ability to make others conjoin forces as the orcs. It was a terrible battle, not expected by the Free Peoples, but that the orcs had been preparing since they had notice of Durin’s line seeking to retake Erebor.  
Thanks to the ravens, the Free Peoples had their chance to prepare themselves, and knowing the size of the Orc army they knew their only hope was to lure them into the arms of the Mountain and attack them from above, making their stand in its spurs. There was no time to summon more help, nor to make any other plan. Dain was told to come rounding the Mountain from the North to take them from rearguard; the elves took the southern spur and men and the Company took the Eastern spur. The enemies swarmed, rushing into the ruins of Dale; some brave men stood them and feigned a resistance, so as a bait for them to follow their draw back and be driven into the arms of the Mountain, as Gandalf hoped; all they could do was to clean the way off orcs and wargs the better they could.  
The elves were the first to charge upon the enemies, for their hatred for the orcs was old and bitter. Many an arrow found its path into a dark heart, and many a spear made its way into a menacing gnarl, killing both warg and rider. Sorrowful enough, many elf that would live long merry ages fell that night, and would wander in the woods no more.  
The Company mingled its efforts with the men that were leaded by Bard, as the Master of Lake-Town had stayed behind with his people, where he found it to be safer. The orcs scaled the Mountain as they could, and they were far too much to be bothered by the amount of them that fell under the fierce defense of dwarves and men, as they feared Azog more than death herself.  
When Dain’s army reached them it was not too soon, and this unexpected reinforcement barely changed the balance of the fight; for nor elf nor men of the Lake had come for a widespread battle, but mostly for a show of bellicosity aimed to intimidate Thorin and his Company, no more than this. But Azog had planned this battle in the hatred of his heart, and they were many, and foul.  
Fíli, Iris and Bilbo had lightened a small fire enough for them to light their small hand bombs and throw them into the midst of bunches of orcs, or, better still, when they could haul them to groups of warg mounted orcs, because then the fire would take into the fur and spread, like it did back in the pine patch after leaving the Goblin’s den. The hobbits had a wonderful aim, but had to take care not shot in a range that could harm their allies. When the bombs were over, Iris and Fíli got their swords and went into the fray. Bilbo, being almost as war-shy as Wolfram, put on his ring and disappeared, so he could at least escape from being purposely aimed for.  
Then it all happened too fast. One moment Ellen was close to Kíli and Thorin, and the next one the tide of orcs had swept them apart. The elf fought her way back to where she had seen them last time, and joined Lily in the way, shooting the arrows of her last quiver. Soon the dwarf would have to use her sword if she was to defend herself. Iris and Fíli came running from the other side, the four blades wielded as if by one single mind. Then they heard a shouting of joy, for the eagles were coming to aid them. The orcs got fiercer, if this was possible, perceiving the odds had turned against them.  
The two families were fighting close together again, but the orcs around them were wild with fear and had nothing left to lose. Thorin blocked a mighty blow from one of them, but a heavy mace caught his back, making him drop to the ground. Fíli was close enough to kill that one, but Iris had been dragged from his side by the swarm. None saw from where the black feathered arrow came, and if it was by sorcery or bad luck that it found its way through his helm and got into his throat. The blond dwarf dropped one sword and put his hand on the wound, confused; then he saw his own blood washing down on him, knelt, and fell down for the last time.  
Lily and Kíli were doing their best with their swords, both of them out of arrows, when she saw her loved one and his nephew on the ground. She cried as she ran, Kíli at her side shouting wild in his pain. Ellen escaped a mighty blow when an eagle caught the orc that was about to hit her and flew off with him, and then she saw them both running to the place where King and Heir had fallen. A dark sense of foreboding alarmed her, and she ran to them.  
“No! No! It cannot happen! It won’t!”  
As the elf ran she saw a picture that would remain forever in her memory. Lily took Orcrist from Thorin’s limp hand and wielded it fiercely at the last orcs in range. Kíli knelt beside his brother and called his Khuzdul name, shaking him in despair, oblivious of the battle still around him. Ellen was out of reach when she saw the upcoming orc and shouted for Kíli. He turned around in time to avoid the first blow, but he had dropped his sword and was unable to reach for it before the second blow came on his chest, tearing his armor. Lily heard her aunt’s shout and turned to him in time to behead the foul orc, and then Ellen reached them.  
“No! No! Not Kíli, no!”  
“He is bleeding too much, try to stop it!” Lily cried.  
“How?” Ellen panicked.  
“Find the cut, apply pressure! I must see Thorin, I heard him moan when I was close to him!”  
“Go!”  
The eagles were doing a magnificent job, and the area around the women had been swept free. Lily was right, Thorin was internally injured, plus several wounds, but not dead. She muttered softly to him as she tried to make him more comfortable, freeing him from his helm and broken armor the best she could, avoiding to move him too much.  
“You will be fine, I’ll take care of you, hold on, my love, my king, my everything!”  
But he did not stir, and she was unable to move the heavy built dwarf from the battle field alone. She kept murmuring low, easing his head in her lap, caressing his beard and strands of hair, kissing his forehead while her own tears ran freely down her cheeks.  
While she was at this, her aunt was deep in trouble with Kíli. She loosened Kíli’s armor and tore his garment wildly, looking for the bleeding that was taking him away from her. Ellen found it on his right side, close to the shoulder, and tried to keep it shut with her hand, but it didn’t seem to be working. His breath was shallow, his skin was pale, and the blood kept gushing from the wound. She managed to take off her left vambrace so her hand would be more free to press on his body. How could he survive without all that blood? Would he die? Why should that faithful dwarf die this way? It was not fair!  
Her mind ran wild in her despair, but then it stuck her. If her faithful chosen one had been heard by his Vala before, could she be heard too? Despair was stronger than her Cartesian mind.  
“Varda! Mahal! Hear my plea!”  
She cried as she looked up at the night sky, half expecting to see them there.  
“I have no beard I can promise for Kíli’s life, so I sacrifice what I have and he lacks!”  
Ellen took her sword and made a cut in her left forearm. The blood gushed out as she winced for the pain, and pressed her wound against his.  
“Mahal! Varda! Hear my plea!”  
She lowered her head to his chest, and could hear his heart beat slowing down. Then it stopped.  
It could not be! No! She would sacrifice anything to have him back, _anything_!  
“Varda! Mahal!” She cried out once more, desperate tears striking her face. “ _I make the choice of Lúthien!_ ” (1)

ooo000ooo

Mahal was really moved by Ellen’s plea, but with so much dying that night it was difficult to chose what pleas should be granted and what ones denied. And she was no dwarf, after all. But then, making the choice of Lúthien? Wasn’t it a little too much?  
“Tintallë, what do you think of this case?”  
The blue shining lady looked down with him to the battle field.  
“She is not joking, this elf will really die out of grief if Mandos takes this one dwarf.”  
“She doesn’t even have royal blood to make this kind of choice, does she?”  
“Come on, don’t be so bureaucratic! This boy has royal blood, it should be enough; and, royal is who royal does, don’t you think so? She is giving her own blood for him, how many royal blooded ones do you know who would do this?”  
“Hmm, it seems you made up your mind already.”  
“Aulë, my friend, the boy has already proven faithful to you more than once, why don’t you think kindly of him? And, as for her, a willing heart should not be denied.”  
“His wound is deep.”  
“Nothing that your forge cannot mend.”  
“His heart doesn’t beat.”  
“Nothing that your hammer cannot fix.”  
The mighty Vala nodded at her.  
“Let’s be done then.”

ooo000ooo

His heart was not beating. She was losing him. The one man who moved her heart in years was going away. Ellen could not stand it. It was too much for her, and she broke. The elf cried hard, oblivious to the remnants of battle around her. She sobbed deeply, unwilling to admit his death. The wind swept a cloud away, showing the pale light of the moon. She was sad, and she was angry. When she realized he would really be leaving her, she could not stand it, and in her anger her right hand closed into a fist and hit hard on the middle of Kíli’s chest, and then she collapsed over him, crying.  
Then she heard it, with her head close to his chest. Softly at first, but it could not be mistaken. His heart was beating. He coughed and took in a deep breath.  
Then she felt it. Her forearm was kind of burning at the cut she made, and she felt Kíli’s skin getting hot around the wound. She took her arm from his chest and looked down at the gashes. They were closing before her eyes, both bleedings stopped at the same time. Ellen looked at Kíli in disbelief. They heard her. The Valar heard her plea and Kíli was back to her.

ooo000ooo

The eagles had come and made their stand in the battle, that for their unexpected help (called for by Gandalf, of course) should be called the Battle of the Six Armies, instead of five; Beorn had come, too, in his bear form, and made a difference, along with Radagast and his rabbits, that if didn’t do much in fighting did a lot in making the enemy confused, and so, easier to get fought.  
After the battle was over, Bilbo was hard to be found, as he got a stone thrown in his head, and even with a helm it was enough for him to get knocked down. But found he was, as he was strongly looked for, as were all members of the Company, for Thorin’s injuries were serious and non amendable, even to Gandalf and Radagast and Thranduil himself, to whom Thorin granted his forgiveness. He too had fallen to a gold sickness, and understood Thranduil’s greed, and in this darkest hour he was even able to relate to him. Thorin was making his best to say his farewell to every and all of his subjects and closest friends. Even Wolfram was called to get out of Erebor to part from him, and asked for forgiveness for not having made his daughter a queen in time.  
When Bilbo was found, he was shoved at once to the tent where Thorin was made to rest; Gandalf himself made him get in, glad for seeing him in this dark hour.  
“It was a nearly disastrous business, but here you are, Bilbo my friend, and you are looked for.” He lowered his voice. “Thorin calls for you. It is a grave moment, if you take my meaning.” They entered the tent. “Hail, Thorin. I have brought him.”  
Thorin looked up at the hobbit, who knelt on one knee, filled with sorrow, and took a hand in his.  
“Farewell, my good burglar! I go now to the Halls of Waiting, where I will not be ashamed to be in the presence of my forefathers.”  
“Farewell, o King Under the Mountain! It was a bitter adventure, and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet, I am glad I had a chance to share it with you, as no Baggins would ever deserve.”  
“Don’t say harsh words to yourself, kind child of the West, for there is more good in you that you know; some courage and some wisdom, in the right measure. If food and cheer and song were valued more than treasures and gold, this word would be merrier indeed. Fare you well, my friend!”  
His pain struck eyes left the hobbit and sought for his living nephew, who had an arm in a sling, then to the strange elf he learned to trust, and back to Kíli. He should be fast, the inner bleeding would not stop, his time was short, and he knew it by the way his left shoulder pained although there was no damage to it. He could not even lay down for the pain, just sat leaned on some pillows.  
“You both.” Kíli leant closer, not to let him exert himself talking out loud. “Don’t forget to give Durin's _bloody line_ some heirs.” He glanced at Ellen, then back to Kíli, and then tightened his hand around Lily’s. “It is already too late for me, now.” One more painful breath. “Tell your mother I love her…”  
“I will.” Kíli whispered.  
“And to forgive me for Fíli…”  
Then a great sob found its way up Thorin’s throat. Lily cried his name as the blood sipped out of his mouth, the once star shining eyes found a target in the distance and begun to tarnish, as Lily embraced him hard one last time and heard him whisper to the stars.  
“ _Durin_ …”

ooo000ooo

They sat on a log afar from the others and leant on each others shoulders, Kíli’s body still shaking with sobs of grief, Ellen’s eyes shedding silent but non-stopping tears. His trembling voice came to her as a faint whisper.  
“It should not be so, it wasn’t meant to be this way, it shouldn’t!”  
She gathered up her strength from she didn’t know where when the already known dizziness overcame her. She wept away the tears that kept flooding her eyes and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes.  
“You are right, it was not meant to be this way. It was meant for you to die with your brother, protecting your fallen uncle, and the first line of Durin would have ceased to be.”  
His sobs gave way as he stared at her in shock. It was always uncanny when she darted her otherworldly knowledge of fate, and he thought about how hard it must be on her to have memories of things that could affect the future and be unable to reach them until it was too late.  
“It should have been different, but, I don’t know why, the Valar heard my plea, and here you are, Kíli, King Under the Mountain.”  
“I don’t feel prepared to be a king, it was never something I looked for. Of course I had the same training my brother had, but I never took care, kingship was never in my thoughts.” He sobbed in dismay. “What shall I do? This quest was for _Uncle_ to take back Erebor, _he ___was to be the King Under the Mountain, and _Fíli_ would succeed him, and _I_ was the careless nephew and brother, nothing more. What shall I do? How will I make Erebor the kingdom it once was? Or even a shadow of it? I have not the skills a king must have.”  
They embraced once more, but her mind was spinning fast. Then she realized.  
“But you don’t have to.”  
“Don’t I have to what?”  
“To have the skills a king must have. Or, at least, all the skills you believe a king must have.”  
“What are you talking about? You never had any training on kingship matters, as long as I know.”  
“No, I hadn’t, I had something else, but it will do. You think you have not the skills of a king, but you don’t have to.”  
“What…?”  
“All you have to do is to round yourself with reliable people who have the skills the kingdom needs, and then make them do what has to be done.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
His eyes where lost.  
“Kíli, it is right here, around you. Do you think Thorin chose these ten guys out of nothing?”  
Ellen started to point the dwarves close by, her mind racing.  
“You said yourself you are inexperienced with kingship things, but no king rules alone. You can take counsel with Dain Ironfoot in the first years, even if he has his own realm to take care for in the Iron Hills. He is kin, of course he will help to train you in whatever may be lacking in your training for kingship. You can always count on Balin's advice, as long as he is with us. Dwalin and Bifur are experienced warriors, they can train people, coordinate Erebor's security body.”  
He began to take her line of reasoning. Albeit his pain, in his body and in his soul, the royal blood in him was making him turn to the needs of his people.  
“Then there is Ori.”  
“Ori?”  
“Yes, Ori. Take him to record the history of the realm, of its losses, of its conquests. A people who forgets the past is doomed to repeat its mistakes. Let Ori record what there is to be recorded, ever. And then his brother Nori.”  
“Nori? He was the most strange choice Uncle made. Not that I don’t like him, but I know he has a way of twisting things to what suits him best.”  
“And do you think a skill like this should be thrown away or be put to the service of the kingdom?”  
“To the service of the kingdom, of course.”  
“Back at my place we call it _diplomat_. Let Nori be our Maquiavel.”  
Kíli wondered what a _makiawell_ might be.  
“Bombur is fully able to take care of all the supply chain Erebor needs, Bofur can take on culture issues…”  
“Culture issues?”  
“I know you dwarves love to work, but everyone must have his share of music, dance, personal interrelationship opportunities…”  
It made some sense.  
“And there are Óin and Glóin. Did you notice how they are always thinking of how to better things? Better the way a pack can be carried, better the way a sword can be sharpened, did you see how they managed to make our camp down the mountain homely?”  
“Sure. It surprised me.”  
“Any town, be it over or under a mountain, must have its maintenance. I really believe they are the ones to coordinate it.”  
A hint of a smile took his lips. Now that she said, it was all so clear.  
“And Dori? He should not be the one to be forgotten.”  
“Sure not. But we are mentioning things that are, and he is meant for things that are to be.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Children, Kíli. I have never found someone with more patience than Dori to teach, explain, train, guide, and instigate thought. Erebor will need him if it is to last more than one generation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 – The Choice of Lúthien: Lúthien Tinúveil was an elf princess who chose mortal life in behalf of the life of Beren, her human husband. Arwen also made this choice, to be wife to Aragorn.
> 
> Tintalë, Varda, Elbereth are all names for the Vali who created the stars, and who is most beloved by the elves.


	37. Chapter 37 – Many Partings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll tell the police there was no trace of you. The girls will keep your secret, too, rest assured.”  
> “How will you explain that they disappeared in our country and reappeared in Indonesia?”  
> “NerdNet guys will help me.”

It took a while to burn the orcs and wargs corpses, and to provide proper burials for all the fallen ones, and first of all was the mending and healing of the wounded ones. The horseleech healer from Lake-Town proved himself a fast and diligent sewer, and he worked along with Óin bringing relief to many a dwarf and men. Lily was too pain struck to help, and spent her time with glazed eyes beside Thorin’s body, unable to eat or to drink.   
She barely breathed.  
Iris was torn, too, barely leaving Lily’s side, as along with Thorin lay the body of Fíli, her dear Little Brother. After Ellen’s insight on how to deal with kingship matters, Kíli went into a dark mood also, as everything that gave meaning to his life until then lay dead on the cold stone.  
Ellen and Wolfram sat together, as albeit the sorrow of the hour they had to elucidate some points before he went back to his world. His, no more hers.  
“What is all that Klingon stuff? What did you find out, Wolf?”  
“Ellen, this Gate was found by a man of our world in the sixties. If you find his real tomb, you may find his writings in a more common language than Klingon. He made the inscriptions in the stone close to Mirror Lake only to leave instructions of how to use the Gate.”  
“But why in Klingon?”  
“As a NerdNet guy, or whatever our group called itself by then, he wanted to be sure no creature from _here_ would easily find the way to get _there_. You can imagine that our world would not know how to deal with orcs or dragons, or yet darker forces. That’s what the NerdNet does, we keep the Gates safe, or at least try to. By writing in Klingon he made sure only a nerd from our world would be able to find and use the Gate.”  
“All right, I’m getting used to the idea that I’m _not_ nerd enough!”  
“Thankfully, he left instructions on the other side too, else I would not be able to find this Gate. There are others, but this was the first Middle-Earth Gate NerdNet guys found for me, and I went for it at once. Even so it took a while to reach it, and it was not easy to get last hour air tickets to Indonesia.”  
“ _Indonesia_?”  
“Yes, the other side of this Gate is in a small lake close to Kelimutu mountain, in the Isle of Flores. Do no mistake it for the Kelimutu lakes that change their color, that ones are poisonous with volcano fumes.”  
“Be sure I really wont mistake them, brother!” She shook her head, helpless.  
“Well, and then there is the timing problem. It only opens when the summer solstice in the south hemisphere occurs along the new moon, in our world; then it stays open the whole week of the new moon, on our world’s side, and seven times this long here in Erebor, forty nine days around dwarven New Years Day. We have a couple of days, yet, but then it will take _twenty eight_ Middle-Earth years for it to open again.  
“Hmm, but only four years in your world. You may be able to visit me then!” The elf was smiling.  
“It is not a very smooth transition, fast changing Gates are quite… nauseous, I’d describe it, but I guess yes, as it will be the only way for us three to see you again.”  
“Lily is going with you too, then. I thought as much.”  
“It was hard to talk to her, she is too hurt inside, but she agreed that staying here would only bring her more pain. We hope back at home her heart may heal, may be human again and heal.”  
“I hope so. And Iris, is she willing to go home without complain?”  
“Actually, no, but this choice is mine, not hers.”  
Ellen teased him just a bit, to be sure her brother shared her own thoughts.  
“She fought fiercely in the battle...”  
“I know. If she fought math and geography as fiercely as she fights orcs and goblins, I’d let her stay with the blink of and eye. When she shows herself mature enough to take her own decisions’ consequences, we may talk about Bilbo and the Shire again.”  
They went quiet for a while, thinking of what would mean to be worlds apart.  
“Will you be able to stay for Thorin’s funeral?”  
“I don’t think so. The Gate is about to close, I don’t want to risk. And it may be better for Lily to keep the memory of him as she knew him, not inside a tomb.”  
“You are wise, brother. Yavanna chose well.”  
“Ahm, I still have to find out what this Yavanna thing means, but I noticed my walking stick turned into a staff. I imagine it will turn back to a walking stick when I pass through the Gate again.”  
“Hey, and don’t you forget that you can always ‘ _fall_ ’ here using the map!”   
She handled him the enchanted map, smiling.  
“It is too unstable. I don’t know if I would have the courage to use it, not knowing where I would fall to.”  
Sister and brother embraced warmly, eyes shut for a while, and then let it go. It was a though departure, for they knew now the passages could only be opened in a short while every twenty eight years, as time passed at a different pace in each world. So, after closed this time, it was not sure they would be able to see each other again in this life. In a way, it was like death was coming upon them. Wolfram asked her once more.  
“Are you sure? The Gate will be open for some while, yet. We are your family, you have your job, friends, your whole life to leave behind. Are you really sure?”  
Ellen sighed.   
“I am, my brother, I am. Now, that I know you know this world, I know you will understand. My real friends are those crazy boffering players who would give anything to live in a world like this. I love my job, but I feel no guilt in leaving it behind, there are lots of people who can do what I do, no one really needs _me_ , they only need what I _am able to do_. And you…” She sighed once more. “You and the girls are my only family, and you know where I am now, and that I am happy here, more happy than I have been in so many years. Would you not want me to be happy as I am?”  
His eyes got wet.   
“You know all I want is to know you are happy! Since the snowboard accident…”  
“So, you got it. Where in our world will I find again a man who doesn’t fear me? I have found boys to whom I could be a friend, or a _mother_ , and play with them for a while, but it would never satisfy me, it has never satisfied me; and I found some men who could have lightened and kept alive the fire within, but then I found out they were just kids, too, for they never had the nerve to stand as I stay, to fight for life the way I fought all my life time. And I don’t mean boffering at all.” She bit her lips. “You don’t know what it is like to really stand back to back with someone and fight one for each other’s life, do you? When it would be so easy just to duck and let the enemy’s arrow get into the others back, and you don’t do it?”  
It was his turn to sight. He had seen so much junk pass through his sister’s life, and there was nothing he could do about it then. Now she found someone worthy to die for. Maybe now the best he could do was… to do nothing at all, and respect her wish.  
“I’ll tell the police there was no trace of you. The girls will keep your secret, too, rest assured.”  
“How will you explain that they disappeared in our country and reappeared in Indonesia?”  
“NerdNet guys will help me.”  
“I’ll try to find a way to send you news whenever it is possible, ok? Just keep your library where it is.”  
“I’ll will.”

ooo000ooo

The parting was bound to be full of tears. Bilbo knew his place was in the Shire, but that his heart would always be with Iris, wherever she might be. They walked hand in hand for a while, none of them daring to break the silence for fear it would break their already cracked hearts. They sat on a boulder near the lake in front of Dale, the chill wind almost unable to stir the water, where the stars were reflected along with their sad faces. He took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.  
“It is almost time for you to go.”  
Her eyes closed.   
“I know. But I don’t want to.”  
They embraced, and he held her wishing he could never let her go.  
“I know.”  
“Why must I go? Why can’t I stay here like Aunt, to live the love I found? Why can’t I choose my own life?”  
Now she was getting rebel and frustrated. He really _had to_ be firm with her, although it hurt him the same. He reasoned.  
“Iris, you can’t choose right now because you are a youngling with lots of life ahead, it is too early to take so a decision you may regret in some few years. I know, I know, don’t punch me so hard, I myself don’t believe you will change your mind, nor that you are too young to make hard choices, but there are other reasons you should consider.”  
She stopped to hit his chest with her closed fists and heard.  
“You must fulfill your dreams. It is not here that your dreams reside, they are on the other side of that Gate. That is why you must go.”  
“ _You_ are my dream, can’t you understand?”  
He shook his head, looking down at her wet angry eyes, caressing gently her cheeks.   
“No, I’m not. All this short time we are together, I see your eyes glistening when you talk about your _choir classes_ , about your _high school_ friends, about the _college_ you want to go to, about the _rock show_ you went to, about how much you miss your _electrical shower_ bath, your _internet_ and _microwave oven_ , about learning to _drive an automobile_ , and all this mad things I don’t even have a clue of what they are!”  
“But you could learn, you could go with us and…”  
“No, I could not, and you know it! I am shire-folk, and that means too simple a being to be in your dreams for long if I had to be your daily reality. What would you do in your world with an almost middle-aged Halfling? How long would it take for you to be bored of me?”  
“I would never…”  
“But yes, you would! Your high school friends would laugh at me, you would be embarrassed. I would fear to use your microwave oven, and I really don’t know what on goodness would make go somewhere to see rocks being showed at me.”  
She closed her eyes and sighed, her feelings in turmoil. She was, after all, only sixteen in her world, and not always very responsible, what could make her believe she could stand everything Bilbo just mentioned?   
“You don’t love me. You said you wanted to marry me, now you want me to go.”  
“Iris, look at me. If I ever found love on this blessed Middle-Earth, it was you to bring it to me. Always remember this. I...” The hobbit took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, swallowing hard. I was not easy. “I may have been turned into a burglar, but I’m not a liar. I love you. And I want to marry you. I know what love is because I knew you, and I will never forget you, and you will be always in my heart.”  
“Then, why can’t I stay?”  
The hobbit-lass was crying again, and Bilbo had an idea and made up a plan. “Sweetie, this decision is not ours to take, yet. You will be allowed to make your own decisions after you come of age, I presume, isn’t it so?”  
“Yes, I hope so.”  
“Then, when you come of age, you can decide. You will have had time to go to your _rock shows_ with your _highschool friends_ and _pop corns_ in your _microwave oven_ , and to think if the Shire is really where you want to live the rest of your life. The Gate will be there, whatever your decision might be. And I will be in the Shire, waiting for you.”  
She didn’t quite believe what she was hearing. It was true, there was hope!  
“Will you really wait for me?”  
“Forever and a day.” And he meant it.  
“This love is like a dream to me!”  
“And to me!” They were happy again, a new light in their eyes. She would grow up her _betweens_ , Bilbo hoped, and blossom into a wonderful woman, and he would skip her chatter age in the calmness of Bag End. Then, if she decided for Middle-Earth, he would be there for her; if not, he would not be the one to blame for getting her stuck in his world when her heart was in her former life style. Bilbo broke the silent embrace.  
“And, I really must say, Ellen promised that if you don’t get your college grade because of me she will pull out my heart with a soup spoon.”  
Iris laughed.   
“Yes, she would be capable of this, you are right.”  
Iris kissed him lightly, just to bring his warmth and his taste to the depths of her, so she could carry this memory with her.  
They walked slowly back to Erebor’s Front Gate, hand in hand. Then Iris reminded herself of something and pulled a hard thing from her pocket.  
“Bilbo I need you to make me a favor. Please!”  
“Yes, Iris, whatever is in my reach!”  
“I will not be here for Fíli’s funeral. I want you to put this with him when... when he is lowered down... you know...”  
Bilbo took the tuna can from Iris’s hands, confused.   
“What...?”  
“Thorin will be sent down with the Arkenstone in his hands, I’ve been told. I got this from my father’s backpack, I know he wouldn’t mind. This... this was one of our best jokes, ever. I... Fíli really would be happy to know he has a tuna can all of his own.”  
The two hobbits embraced with the tuna can in their hands, shedding tears for the sorrowful end of the Mischievous Company.

ooo000ooo

The remainders of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield accompanied Wolfram and his daughters down to Mirror Lake. Lily was in almost catatonic state, and Iris was unable to stop her tears. The parting ones embraced the staying ones, not all able to utter a word of farewell, as they were brokenhearted too. Kíli dropped to his knees to embrace Iris, mingling their tears.  
“Be good to your Father, so he allows you to come visit us!”  
“I will make more than this, you will see, Little Brother! You will see!”  
Dwalin and Balin were the last ones to shake hands with Wolfram, tapping his shoulder.   
“We must thank you for the Jewel you delivered in our world, even if for a little while. If she had not cured Thorin from the Gold Sickness, it would have been an even darker end to our quest.”  
“I don’t know what she has done, but I’m glad she has.”  
“And thank you for leaving your sister to us as well. She is a pride to Fundin’s line.”  
“I bet a tuna can I would have no other choice!”  
Wolfram turned at last to his pointy-eared sister.  
“Wolf, my brother, I must ask you a last favor before you go.”  
“Anything, Ellen.”  
“When you are back to our city, please go to my office...”  
“Yes?”  
“And tell the Human Resources Director that _I quit_!”  
The tall man nodded, smiling; then he took his daughters hands in his and jumped into the silver shining waters.


	38. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Erebor, Durin’s Day of the seventh year of the reign of Kíli Elvenblood, King Under the Mountain”

_Valinor_

He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes a slit. It was too clear around, though he could no figure out where the sun might be. It was not cold, it was not warm, and he was not hungry. Everything was comfortable, more than he had been comfortable for a long time. He noticed his shoulder and other wounds didn’t bother him anymore, either. He was tired, though, and closed his eyes to sleep a bit more.

 

ooo000ooo

 

He woke up with the feeling of being observed, and sat up at once, startled. He could not see his observer, and begun to search the place, warily. It was not as full of light as before, and he felt the place he was sleeping on was not as smooth, although his muscles felt perfectly rested.

It was a large stone room, and he didn’t figure out what kind of place was that. He saw two hearths, one on each side of the room, the closest one meant for comfort, with its golden flames licking... what? That was not wood, at least didn’t look like wood. It looked more like... stones. Burning stones. Now he was sure he had seen everything in this world.

The heat of the fire made him feel thirsty and then saw a water flagon on a table nearby, and a mug he was sure he didn’t see there before. He poured some water in the mug, warily, but the water didn’t make anything unexpected. It was crystal clear, no smell, and he decided to take a probing sip. Water. Plain water, refreshing, tasteless, water. He drank it down in small sips, exploring the place with slow steps. Somehow, he knew he didn’t have to haste.

There were tools on the wall, and scattered on a workbench were several pieces of handiwork in different stages of completeness. Most of them he could not understand, but some were quite what he was used to make himself. He felt a sting in his heart thinking how long it had been since he used a forge last time. It felt worse when he remembered when it actually was. He sighed and shook his head, sad. There was nothing he could do now. Only wait.

He left the water mug on the workbench when he noticed a particularly known object on the other side of the room, close to the forge hearth, and went for it. There was an anvil, and an unfinished war axe waiting to be worked on, the metal glowing red, begging to be hammered, shaped into what it was meant to become. If he was left in that room for any reason at all, this might well be the reason. That axe was calling for him, and he yearned for the heat of the forge, the weight of the hammer in his hand, the sound of metal against metal reverberating through his whole body. He smiled to himself when he took the axe with a tong and lifted the hammer to hit it where it should. His hand fell down with all the weight of the hammer and of his own will on the axe head.

The pain hit him at the same moment, making him release the tools and throwing him seven feet away from the anvil. Biting his lip to hold back a groan, he sat up and rubbed his chest where the pain hit him. It was not even sore to the touch, making it all more incomprehensible. He was scrambling to his feet when a shadow moved to be between him and the fire.

“You should not play with tools that are not meant for you, child, even if you feel inclined to fix things as soon as you may. I’m glad to see you are so willing to make things right, though, as last time it took you absurdly long to take this step.”

He looked at the one who spoke to him, wide eyed. He never heard that voice before, not outside his dreams, and he knew to whom it belonged.

“Mahal...”

The newcomer took the tools from where they’d fell and put them back into place; then he took the unfinished war axe, the metal still glowing red, with his bare hands and put it back on the forge to heat up again; then he straightened his tough leather apron with his hands and turned back to him.

“Yes, that is it. Now, close your mouth before you start dribbling, it’s not like we never met.”

The owner of the place beckoned him to a chair at the table where the water flagon was and made himself comfortable, filling a mug that wasn’t there until that moment. The flagon poured red wine.

“Now, where are we? Aye, you have done a good job, child. Fulfilled what you swore, that’s it.”

He got dizzy, and held his head down until he felt better. Comprehension of where he was, and in front of whom, overwhelmed him.

“My Lord, I...”

“Hush, hush, child, I know, I know... Now, stand up, take a chair, we have much to talk, and no hurry. No need for apologies and kneeling stuff, not here, child.”

Then he remembered everything. He had taken his people out of Erebor, and moved to the Gray Mountains. It had been a mistake, a decision made out of pride, and his people paid dearly for it. Dain I, the son of his grandson, was slain by a great cold-drake because of that decision, and Frór, Dain’s second son also. But the firstborn, Thrór, moved his people back to Erebor, making the right decision. He wanted to help him, to compensate for having moved his people out of Erebor so long ago, and begged to go back and help to restore the glory of the halls of his people, that had been lost in great measure because of him. He promised. And he went.

“I... I didn’t know that it was a plan to mend things I’ve done wrong before. I... I just loved Erebor fiercely, and when it was taken by Smaug... I just had to take it back.”

“So, there was none as fit as you to do this deed, don’t you think so?” He poured himself more wine, and from the same flagon poured more water for the one who had just arrived from Middle-Earth. “You cannot retain the memory of before when you’re down there, like when you are here, else you would get insane. One life is enough for one to deal in just a lifetime. Now, here, we can talk about the whole story and take some decisions about your future.”

“I understand, my Lord.”

“So, let us see what has been left behind...”

 

ooo000ooo

 

_Earth_

A whole year went by, and eventually things settled as they would have to. Iris was studying furiously, and begun to take charge of the medicinal plants growth in the yard; she was also applying for a nursing technician course and had already made a first aid course and a fire brigade course too.

Lily lost the year in college while copping her grief, but once she uplifted her head there was nothing that could stop her from achieving her goals. She was alive, and decided that she would live, not only survive, and make her best, although she went in Ellen’s former ‘out of business’ mode.

Wolfram sat at the library certain morning, reading the newspaper, when through the open window an owl came in, a parchment tied to its talon. It found a place right in front of him to land down on the table, crooking his golden eyes to the man. Slowly and carefully, he reached for the bird and untied the silken ribbon with the parchment. The owl waited for a minute and flew away, silent as it came.

“Yes, a picture can tell more than a thousand words!” He said, looking at the open parchment; but there was another one, and words, too, lots of them.

 

“Dearest brother,

I hope the owl has found you, Dumbledore swore it would be easy for the bird to reach you once he could track the energy of Lily’s sword, as it was made here in Middle-Earth. Next time, if you are able, provide one or two mice as reward for the owl and you’ll be sure it will find you when needed.

It took me _years_ of negotiation to open this communication channel, so, please help to keep it open. There is a non-changing Gate between the Forbidden Forest in Hogwarts and Mirkwood. This means no mind blockage too, but if you ever send me a single word about the future it will not only be censored but all my efforts to negotiate this channel will be thrown into the recycle bin. I have not been able to negotiate the use of this Gate for personal use, yet, for the same reason. Next year wait for the owl with your letter already written, bind it in the bird’s leg and it will reach me. Now, I’ll try to condense last seven years happenings, else the owl will not be able to carry the parchment!

Bilbo went back to the Shire, accompanied by Gandalf, who would send word to Dís and the dwarves in the Blue Mountains to come and re-people Erebor. It seems Bilbo’s people thought he was dead and made a mess with his things, he had to re-buy most of his own belongings and it took him years to prove he was alive. When Dís came with her people Bilbo came along to attend to our wedding, and it snowed food and rained drink for three days. It was almost a year after the Battle of Five Armies, so even if in sorrow for not having Thorin and Fíli here, we were able to feast. Of course me and Kíli didn’t show our noses out of home in the second day of feasting, as this is the dwarven tradition, but be sure Dís and the Company provided that no guest has been unattended. I asked to have some of our world traditions present in the wedding, so my dress was white, but as I am counted as a warrior I had to wear some armor to show it, so I used silver vambraces and a light mithril full plate corselet. I had Tauriel and Arwen as my maidens at the wedding, as I had no family women here.

Dís is a sweetie, stubborn like Thorin Oakenshield; she was very saddened by the loss of both her brother and her first born son to war, but glad to have Kíli left; when our son was born she was in state of grace, as it was the first time in seventy nine years that her family was growing instead of dwindling. I am really blessed to have Dís here, she was so reassuring to me when the baby was born, as I panicked because he was so _tiny_ , but she calmed me explaining he was not _tiny_ , he just was a _dwarf_! Well, let me introduce you our youngling, we thought it would only be fair to pay homage to Kíli’s uncle in his name, so Durin’s line has already another _Thorin_. By the way, _Knee_ is how we use to call little Thorin to differentiate him from Thorin Oakenshield; you should see Kíli’s worry when the baby was born, because he had absolutely no experience with babies, and Kíli kept mumbling ‘W _hy does my son look like a knee?_ ’ until Dís whacked his head explaining he looked exactly that way when he was born. We already have another one on the way, our upcoming one will be Lyn, if a girl, after Balin and Dwalin’s sister, and if a dark-haired boy he will be Frérin, after Dís other brother, and if a blond then he will be Fíli, for the deceased one.

Kíli managed to grow a short beard already, it is no more that itchy stumbles, he even looks a bit more grown up. He has been quite a grown up king, too, having managed definite peace with the Mirkwood elves, and the ‘ _you can never trust an elf_ ’ quote became a joke. Dealings with Long-Lake have always been good, especially after the Master flew away with most of the gold that was sent to rebuild the town; seemingly he died of hunger in the Waste, deserted by his companions. Then the people chose another Master, more interested in his people’s needs than in his own, and he works together with Bard in Dale, as twin cities. Dale was rebuilt even fairer than it was of old, or at least so do sing the ones who knew it before Smaug came. These seven first years have been of much cleansing and rebuilding, but they were worthy the effort.

To make it short, as the parchment is ending, people have given us nicknames due to what happened in the Battle, like Thorin had his Oakenshield nickname due to what happened in the Battle of Azanulbizar; Bombur and Bofur have found their Jewels, so we may have more younglings among the Company members in the next years. As Durin’s people has decreased so much in the last two hundred years, we are making an effort to increase the birth rate amongst Erebor dwarves _leading by example_.

 

Love for ever,

Ellen Dwarvenheart, Fundinul”

 

In the other parchment there was a fine drawing of a sturdy short bearded dwarf, standing proudly holding in his arms a small boy with braids in his locks, and beside a chair where a longhaired elf sat smiling, her belly bulging with a midway term pregnancy. One acquainted to Anghertas runes would be able to read under the drawing:

“Erebor, Durin’s Day of the seventh year of the reign of Kíli Elvenblood, King Under the Mountain”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on a sequel to this story, it called "Send me an Owl", and actually this Epilogue is its Prologue. It is being updated weekly. The first few chapters are mostly letters from Wolfram, Ellen, Iris and Bilbo, plus some Tales from Mahal's Forge, giving sequence to the story of the deceased dwarf that meets his Maker. These letter let you know how Erebor is being reconstructed and how the people are faring both in Earth and Middle-Earth. From chapter 9 on we follow Bilbo and some of his cousins traveling to Erebor, where to the Earth family is going in the next opening of the Gate in Mirror Lake. You can expect romance, humor, angst, adventure, Kíli's children, ravens and cookies, and a long expected wedding. But don't expect the goblins will find it amusing to have the Goblin King's Bane back to their world, and you don't know what the orcs are planning...

**Author's Note:**

> (1 – LARP stands for Live Action Role Playing Game)  
> (2 – Cosplay is short for Costume Play, a type of performance in which people wear costumes to represent a character, usually from games, movies, anime etc.)  
> (3 – Boffering is a mock fight with foam padded mock weapons, simulating a combat.)


End file.
